Never Look Back
by MockingjayWolf
Summary: Here are three things you should know: Astrid Aegirsdottir was an Asgardian. Loki Odinson was a prince of Asgard. The two loathed each other. Then again, the path of true hate never did run smooth...
1. Chapter 1: Of Magyk and Secrets

**A/N:**Yay! New story! I know there are a lot of Loki/OC stories floating around out there, so I decided to do the logical thing and write another one. However, there is one main thing that you need to know: in this story, Loki and my character (Astrid) HATE each other. With a vengeance. And... that's about it. Don't worry - stuff happens!

Please read, enjoy and review! If you don't enjoy it, please tell me why. (This is not, however, an invitation for flames).

This starts in pre-Thor, when Thor, Loki, Sif and the Warriors Three are all about eight or nine years of age. Hopefully, this story will progress through Thor and I'll write a sequel about the Avengers.

**!~~!**

**Chapter 1**  
**Of Magyk and Secrets**

"Are you not coming?" Thor's young confidence ricocheted off the stone walls of the Asgardian palace. The afternoon's light threw flaxen beams into the open hallway and made the ivory pillars glow like white-gold. A moment passed, and Thor raised an eyebrow at his quiet friend. "Well?"

"No," Astrid paused to watch a fluffy cloud drift lazily towards the sun. She stretched out, sunning herself on the warm marble underneath her. "I feel like going... hunting today. I shall join you later, my prince." The lie fell clumsily from her mouth, and she resisted the urge to wince. She was no 'Silvertongue'. That title already belonged to someone else.

Thor frowned, his forehead wrinkling in frustration. "The Swords-master will not like that. This is, what, the third time this month?"

"Fourth." Astrid stood up, yawned. "What can a dusty old Swords-master teach me that the Asgardian forest can't?" She sent Thor a dazzling smile, and he blinked.

"Dignity, honor, justice," Thor paused to think, "duty, responsibility-"

"Responsibility and duty are the same thing, my prince," Astrid interrupted, bored.

"Yes, well, that may be so. But does one not respect their elders - and their prince?" Thor crossed his arms childishly.

Astrid smirked, performed a mock bow. "What are your wishes, oh master?"

Thor's serious face wobbled. "My wishes...my wishes are.. oh, stow you, Astrid," he smiled and chuckled loudly. "You know that Sif, Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg will be there. And didn't you want to fight Fandral yesterday-"

"Yes, actually, I did," she sighed. "But Fandral 'the Dashing', as he is so coyly known, can wait until tomorrow to have his arse kicked."

"Very well. I shall inform the Swords-master that Fandral may live to see another day." He nodded grimly.

"No, do not tell him," Astrid waved a hand dismissively. "That man is as blind as a bat. He won't notice."

"Do you wish to bet on that?"

"Fine. I will wager that the Swords-master never notices that I'm missing from training. If I win..." she ended her sentence questioningly. "What could a prince offer that could interest me?"

"Gold?"

She snorted. "Come, Thor. Really?"

"Toys?"

"I am not a child!" she laughed. Thor raised an eyebrow at her, and she huffed. "I am almost nine!"

"Astrid, you are eight, and only just turned so," Thor said, bemused.

"No, I'm almost nine! There's a difference," she said, squaring her shoulders.

Thor chuckled, "You digress."

Astrid blinked, and cocked her head to the side, "I _what?_"

"A word I heard Loki say. I believe it's a kind of pudding." Thor explained.

"Oh. Okay," Astrid shook her head quickly. "Back to the subject - my prize?"

"Oh..." he paused, and glanced around the room warily. "I shall allow you to do whatever you wish to Loki - _within reason," _Thor warned, as he saw his friend's face light up with malicious glee, "-for one whole day. And if I win-"

"I shall apologize to Loki for all his years of '_torment_' under me," she grinned, using air quotes.

"It sounds good, this bet," Thor smiled darkly. "Because there is no way you will ever win it."

He turned to walk towards the training hall. Astrid shook her head wryly, and skipped in the opposite direction, eager to go to her little secret. The fact that she had lied to Thor weighed heavily on her heart - the Prince was probably the closest thing to a brother she had. Albeit the brother she had never particularly wanted.

**!~~!**

Astrid sniffed disdainfully as she stepped into the field. It was a cold day, chillier than normal, and the icy wind cut through her thin shift and cloak.

The field stretched for Allfather-knows-how-far all around her. Green grass leaped up around her calves and tickled her legs as she moved forward, deeper into the empty space. Deserted, spacey and quiet, it was perfect. Except for the large puddle of mud that she managed to step and soak her boots in.

Plopping down cross-legged in the grass, Astrid slipped a small book out from beneath her storm-blue cloak and stared at it in disgust. Odin forbid that anyone would ever catch her with a _book _in her possession. Books were dreadfully dull and silent, and would never spar with you. They were objects to be avoided at all costs.

But... Astrid was curious. She tucked a strand of light chestnut hair behind her ear and opened the book with a pudgy finger. Her young, bright eyes scanned the title page.

_Ancient Light: A Young Sorcerer's Guide to Magyk_

Maybe this would teach her how Prince Loki could mask himself from others. How he never had to do any work; he disappeared conveniently. How he managed to sweet talk the servants into giving him extra food at meals. How he managed to... be so damn infuriating.

She placed the small book on the earthy ground, flipping through the pages, caring not that her grubby hands made faint dirt marks on the yellowed pages. _Boring. Boring. Dull. Drab. Ugh. Too complicated._

_Hello - what's this?_

Astrid narrowed her eyes and slowly read the spell, her lips slowly mouthing the words.

_Invisibility: a cloak for the stealthy. This spell is for beginners, but must be practised many times to be perfected. If wished, the spell may also be used to cloak objects._

Many times to be perfected? She didn't like the sound of that.

_As this is stealth magyk, it is a nonverbal spell. To cast this magyk, one must verbally chant: 'Tankasfe helain yvisinyl'._

That was a strange phrase indeed. Astrid cocked her head to the side and whispered, feeling rather foolish, "_Tankappe helain yvisinyl." _

Nothing happened.

She narrowed her eyes. Why wasn't it working? Stupid magyk. Astrid stood, clutching the book in her hands and rolled her eyes. A little louder this time, perhaps.

"_Tankappe helain yvisinyl!" _she spoke out. Again, nothing. Astrid growled and threw the book to the ground. "Stupid thing!" She raised her foot to stomp a dirty boot onto the cover, when-

"That book is over a hundred years old. I doubt many would appreciate should you choose to destroy it." The voice came from behind her.

Astrid clicked her tongue in annoyance, without turning around. "What do you want?"

"No need to sound so hostile, Lady Astrid." Even without seeing him, she could sense the dry smirk on his face.

"_My prince," _she hissed, just to be 'cordial'.

"Wonderful spell you were casting there. Invisibility, if I'm not mistaken. There is a certain level of concentration needed for the spell that I doubt you possess. Also, I do believe that the correct phrase is '_Tankasfe', not 'Tankappe'_." The tone of his voice was calm and a drawl.

She snorted. As_ if_ he were to be mistaken about magic - the one thing the oaf was good at. Yet she felt a hot blush creep up her neck anyway, and whirled around, hoping the irked look on her face would disguise her humiliation at having him see her 'practicing' magyk.

"As if you could do any better... my prince."_ No, you idiot, shut UP! You _know _he can do better. _She had fallen prey to one of the world's greatest blunders. The first being never getting involved in a land war in Alfheimr, but the second was never go against an Asgardian prince when disgrace was on the line! But it was too late.

Prince Loki sauntered forwards, somehow managing to look condescending and serious at the same time. "Yes, I could, actually."

Astrid longed to punch that smug look off his face as hard as she could. She clenched her fists. There was no use trying to out-insult him. If she tried to fight him, she would be beaten - he was older (even if only by a few months), taller and already far more adept at the magykal arts than anyone else his age in Asgard.

But there was one way she could hurt him, that no one but he would care about...

She raised her muddied foot slowly.

Loki's eyes widened a second too late; with a triumphant look in her hazel eyes, she brought her foot down. There was a satisfying crunch as timeworn pages instantly gained splashes and smears of mud and dirt, obscuring the elegant script.

Loki was frozen in horror, and to add to the blow, she swivelled her foot from side to side, and a small rip appeared in the middle of the page, beheading the word "_helain"._

Astrid heard a sharp intake of breath as she glanced up to glimpse the prince's reaction.

"Why would you - that book was - how could you..." he trailed off, knowing the answer. The feeling of hatred was mutual between them; it always had been.

She didn't answer. She didn't have to. But as his dark eyes met hers, she flicked her gaze away uncomfortably as a tiny worm of guilt began to gnaw at her stomach. "If you'll excuse me, I have more _important _things to do... _Prince Loki."_

Even as his eyes were trained on the wrecked book, lying wounded on the dusty ground, he managed to utter in a shaken voice, "What could one have to do that is more important than talk to a prince?"

"Mmm... I do not know... talking to the _crown _prince, perhaps?" Swiping her tongue quickly across her dry lips, she gave a final haughty nod towards the silent boy, turned on her heel and stormed out of the clearing, leaving Loki to stare at the spellbook. The mud had sunk through the many chapters.

Never again would a reader perverse its worn pages.

**!~~!**

**A/N:** What did you think? Please tell me! The next chapter will be here soon.


	2. Chapter 2: Of Bets and Mischief

**A/N: **Short chapter! Please read and review!

**Chapter 2**

**Of Bets and Mischief**

"Well, Lady Astrid? What have you to say for yourself?"

Astrid whipped around. When she saw who it was, she let herself relax. "_Sif!" _she snarled.

Sif was a young, pretty goddess with long, straight black hair and dark, smiling eyes. Astrid's dun-colored hair, by contrast, was mud-like and thin and poked out at all angles in a sleek but messy, short hair-cut.

"Evening, Astrid," Sif greeted curtly. "Care to tell me why you missed training this afternoon?" Sif raised an imploring eyebrow, and Astrid let out a breathy laugh.

"Oh, was that _this _afternoon?" Astrid rolled her eyes. "I'm _ever _so sorry. It must have slipped my mind."

"Hunting again, were we?" Sif asked superiorly.

"Careful, Lady Sif," Astrid warned. "Stick your nose up any higher and a bird will crash into it."

Sif glowered, and in one swift move lashed out her leg and knocked the smaller girl to the floor.

"_That _was what we learned today. Had you been in training, you would have known how to defend against it."

Astrid picked herself up gingerly. She refused to show any signs of weakness to Sif, whom she was deeply jealous of. "Go play in Garm's mouth, _uskit'r," _she growled.

"You seem particularly bitter today, Astrid," Sif said amusedly. "What, did you have another run-in with Loki and _lose_?" Sif smiled devilishly, and Astrid rolled her eyes.

"No. I won this time. And some dark, cold night, I will sneak into your room and slice your jugular open," she called matter-of-factly as she walked away. She refrained from laughing maniacally, as she had often seen Loki or the other pranksters do when parting.

"And I will come back from the dead and kill you thrice." It was their customary goodbye.

**!~~!**

"Did the Swordsmaster notice?" Astrid raised an eyebrow.

"No," Thor mumbled grumpily. "He almost did, but he's getting old. I may have to tell Father."

"Oh, Thor." Volstagg clapped the blonde boy on the back. "What did you promise her this time? Your first-born child?" He laughed uproariously at his own joke, only to stop immediately when no one else did.

"Well, Thor? What did you promise me?" Astrid asked innocently, batting long eyelashes at him.

Thor grumbled something incoherent into the floor.

"What was that?" Astrid cupped a hand around her ear. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I promised her she could do whatever she wished to Loki," Thor finally muttered.

Astrid bit back her grin as Hogun swung round to face her, face as gleeful as Fandral's and Volstagg's. "Did he _really?"_

Fandral shook his head slowly, grinning. "Thor, you always did like a bet a little too much."

Thor turned to Astrid. Grudgingly, he asked, "Well? What are you going to do?"

"First, are you all joining me? I can't do what I have in mind by myself."

Volstagg and Fandral nodded immediately, evil smiles already lighting up their faces. Hogun narrowed his eyes and finally consented with a quick jerk of his head. Sif sighed and raised her eyebrows. "Can't let you have all the fun," she said in a resigned way.

"Thor?" Astrid asked, turning to her prince. "Do you wish to help?"

He shook his head. "Loki is my brother," he said simply, and left it at that. After a pause, he added, "I will not stop you, but be warned. Do not take this too far."

As Thor walked off, Fandral tilted his head playfully at Astrid. "So, my Lady, what are we going to do?"

Astrid's smirk stretched across her face. "We're going to play a trick on the trickster."


	3. Chapter 3:Of Bets and Childish Ignorance

**Chapter 3: Of Traps and Childish Ignorance**

The night cloaked the five like black water over stones. The moon was half-shrouded by a thin covering of clouds, seeming to shimmer in the sky. Silence resounded - except for the occasional pounding sound of their feet, nothing stirred. It was all too perfect a night. Astrid glanced at Fandral, 'fearlessly' leading the way.

"Are you sure this is a good plan? It seems extremely complicated," she whispered. "And it may not even work."

It had been Fandral and Volstagg's idea, and the other three had... well, helped. (By which they stood there, nodded, and occasionally tried to get a word in edgewise).

"Of course it will work," Fandral pronounced with pride. "It was my idea, wasn't it?"

Volstagg shoved him hard from behind, a disgruntled look on his face. Fandral stumbled, barely managing to keep his feet.

Astrid exchanged a resigned look with Sif. Hogun glided along silently, his eyes trained firmly on the dark golden path in front of them.

**!~!**

"Have faith, ladies," Fandral reassured the two girls as they skeptically gazed at the 'trap'.

"Fandral, this will _never _work." Astrid shook her head.

"Yes, it will."

"No, it won't."

"Yes, it wi-"

"_Great Allfather_, both of you! Just knock it off already!" Sif glared at them. "We need to concentrate on this stupid trap."

Fandral stuck his tongue out at Astrid. "Yeah! _Hey-"_

Hogun interrupted quickly. "Fandral, please explain how this will work, now that it is in place."

Volstagg stepped in front of his friend. "Allow _me_. When Loki enters the library, he'll walk down the steps, tripping over this wire." He indicated a length of small twine stretched across the floor of the library.

"He will fling his hand out to break his fall. That hand will land here-" Volstagg pointed to a large black circle on the floor.

"How do you know that it will land exactly there?" Sif asked quickly.

"Fandral worked that out," Volstagg said by way of answer.

"Trial and error." Fandral shrugged and nodded at Volstagg to continue.

"As I said, his hand will land here, on this lever, activating this iron sphere," he gestured at a small, grey object just on the outside of the circle, "to roll into this lighter's wheel-"

"What's a 'lighter'?" Hogun asked.

"An Midgardian object that creates flames with a push of a button."

"Oh. _Of course_. Carry on."

"Anyway, the flames will catch on this string," another length of string ran from the lighter to the top of a bookshelf, "to the wooden bookshelf, where the fire will spread, effectively burning Loki's precious books."

"And the best part is that the fire will destroy all the evidence," Fandral added. "So who's to say that Loki never started the fire himself?"

"No one," Sif mused. "But no one would believe that Loki would burn these himself."

Astrid glanced around her in the dimly lit library. The wasted brands did glow, casting long shadows across the black marble floor. "Be that as it may, it is a good plan. But there is one thing I do not understand. Why wait for Loki to trip on the wire? Wouldn't it be much easier to just set the fire ourselves, now?"

Volstagg thought for a minute, before Fandral answered for him. "No. It will be as though Loki lit the fire himself, as he will be the one to trip the wire. And even if we are responsible for it, Loki seems to be the only one who cares for the 'great art of reading'."

It was true. It seemed as though Loki was the only bookish being in Asgard, a place that favored strength and bravery over intellect and being articulate.

"Won't Loki see the trap coming a mile off?" Hogun asked quietly.

"No, because Astrid here knows a little invisibility spell."

Astrid's eyes widened and she pivoted slowly to face Fandral. "How. Did. You. Know." she spat, her voice filled with quiet fury.

Fandral's smile widened. "Loki talks to himself. I was simply in the right place at the right time."

Her eyes tapered to slits. "I was attempting to cast a spell. That doesn't mean that it worked."

"A mispronunciation, perhaps?"

Astrid glared at him. "Fine. All of you, be quiet for a second. I need to sort this out." It wasn't going to work. She knew that.

But, like a prideful imbecile, she was going to try anyway.

_I do believe that the correct phrase is 'Tankasfe', not 'Tankappe'._

Fine. She would try it his way. "_Tankasfe helain yvisinyl!" _she declared.

Her heart leaped as the lighter flickered in and out of vision for a second, then plummeted as it returned to normal.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Fandral smirked.

"No. Now, shut up!"

_There is a certain level of concentration needed for the spell that I doubt you possess._

But how to concentrate? She focused her mind. It was harder than it sounded. When sparring, everyone agreed that it came naturally to them, but this was a whole new idea entirely.

_I'll bet Prince Loki finds it easy, _she thought, cross. _This would be so much easier if I just owned an the Mantle of Arthur, or something like it. _(Well, at least their history lessons at the palace came in handy for griping).

"_TANKASFE HELAIN YVISINYL_!" she screeched, infuriated. Immediately Fandral was next to her, clapping a hand over her mouth with a horrified look in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what _they _will do to us if we're caught? Think 'no leaving the sight of an adult' for the next three hundred years!" he hissed.

Astrid calmly reached up and pulled his hand away from her mouth. "Yes, but at least the trap will be invisible."

A small smile touched Astrid's lips as the others looked at her work. No, it wasn't perfect; the glamor that cloaked the trap was wavy in more than one place, but it would work... hopefully; after all, the night's darkness would help some. Perhaps Loki wouldn't spot it; after all, it wouldn't be the first time he had failed to notice sometime blatantly being waved in front of his face. The prince had a talent for spotting things well-disguised... not half-disguised.

"Well done, Astrid," Sif smiled, allowing herself a twinkle of evil in her eyes. "Now, we simply must wait."


	4. Chapter 4: Of Flames and Punishment

**A/N:** Huge thanks to ForeverisGone13 (Jon Snow!) and derpfacedapperson (nice username) for reviewing. The rest of you - I know you're out there: I can see you guys on my Traffic Stats. REVIEW, please. In the meantime, enjoy Odin yelling at the kids. And thank you for reading!

**Chapter 4: Of Flames and Punishment**

"_Did you really suppose that you could get away clean with that_?" Odin Allfather seethed. "All five of you, acting like infants! I don't suppose that any of you had taken a minute to think that perhaps this would end badly for all of you, including Loki? It's a minor consolation that Thor was not involved, lest my anger be far worse." Rather than yelling, his voice had taken on a low and dangerous quality.

Astrid shrank under his gaze, wishing she could recite the invisibility spell once more. What she wouldn't give to go back in time and change the recent past -

"And furthermore, you have caused invariable damage to the library. Books that have been in existence for hundreds of thousands of years - burned and gone," Odin narrowed his eyes at the five children, who quailed under his glare. "Please, enlighten me as to what exactly was going through your minds when you thought of this."

Astrid swallowed. It had all been fine, until Loki had walked in too early.

**!~!**

Less than an hour earlier, Fandral stepped back to inspect his handiwork.

"That should complete it, friends." He pursed his lips and nodded. "We should leave before Loki comes. And _that_ should be soo-"

In a case of possibly the worst timing in the history of Asgard, Astrid heard footsteps clacking against the marble floor - _right outside _the library.

Sif stiffened. "Hide!" she hissed.

Volstagg and Hogun exchanged horrified glances with Fandral and darted off towards the back of the library. Sif threw an anxious glance towards Astrid, who had raced off to the West Wing with a hurried, "_Follow me_!" thrown over her shoulder. With a gulp, Sif went after her.

A small, serious face poked its way through the doorway. "Hello?" Loki called, and through an empty space in a bookshelf Astrid saw him narrow his eyes as he stepped inside. "Is anyone here?"

_Please don't see us please don't see us please don't see us, _she chanted silently, a mantra in her head designed and failing to keep her calm. If they were caught...

Astrid felt an arm on her shoulder. She turned slowly to see Sif place a silent finger on her lips and gesture towards the second level of the library, where she could just make out three small silhouettes. The boys motioned to Sif and Astrid wildly.

Loki, meanwhile, stepped forward to stand in front of a bookshelf. Astrid froze again, hands clenched. Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg were well-hidden up on the second floor, but Sif and she were practically sitting ducks. All they could do was remain still and pray that Loki didn't look up and see them.

However, the prince was busy. Reaching up and pulling a thick book from its shelved brothers, he opened its dusty pages with a look of peace on his fine-carved features.

Astrid sucked in a silent breath. He was so close to the wire, invisible to the eye. Just a little closer, and-

Loki looked up, and locked gazes with her. He smirked knowingly at her and raised his foot, imitating her own foot earlier that same day. He cocked his head to the side and flicked out the front of his foot. "Hmm. I wonder what this does?" he mocked.

_It's okay. He doesn't know what it does, _she thought, almost calmly. The worst part was that he had seen through her invisibility like it was nothing. _I was a fool to think this was going to work. Wait, a - _

Breaking the twine, which flickered out of invisibility as it snapped with an almost inaudible _twang. _Since Loki hadn't tripped, and his hand hadn't landed on the circle, the sphere didn't move. It simply sat there; if a ball could look sad, it had on an expression of absolute loneliness. _Damn._

Loki lifted his head up. "Did you really think I was going to fall for such a crude trap as that?" he asked all of them. The five remained silent. "I would have thought that the Swords-master had taught you at least simple traps. What was _this _meant to do?"

He walked over to the lighter. "I will admit that I've never seen one of these before. A Midgardian object salvaged from the garbage, perhaps? Is it, perhaps, meant to-"

Loki narrowed his eyes, and pressed the switch curiously. With a snap, a small flame burst out of the lighter. It wasn't much, but it startled him enough that he threw the lighter away from himself instinctively. It hit a wooden bookshelf near Loki and sparks exploded everywhere as the lighter burst apart. Liquid spewed onto some of the books on the lowest shelf. And six sparks of fire leaped onto the liquid.

Before Astrid could register what was happening, flames were licking up the wooden shelves, spreading faster than she could ever have imagined.

A scream echoed from somewhere far away. Astrid looked up, her eyes wide. Loki was gone.

Hogun was shoving Volstagg and Fandral away with a panicked shout. The three of them rushed down a flight of stairs and waved wildly for Sif and Astrid to follow them before sprinting out of the huge golden entrance doors.

Sif shook her head. "No Midgarian fire could spread this fast," she murmured to Astrid.

"You seem surprisingly calm about the fact that we're about to be _burned alive_!" Astrid yelled back as flames jumped from one shelf to the next. Pages curled and blackened as the fire ate at them - more than half of the library was consumed.

"We should get out of here." Sif began running towards the door.

Astrid glanced around her once, feeling the heat of the fire on her face. It hadn't reached her yet, but who knew how many books it would consume? With a rock of remorse entering her stomach, she grabbed three random books off a blazing shelf and ran.

Behind her, Astrid heard a crash as the first of the racks crumpled to the ground.

**!~~!**

"Whose idea was it?" Odin asked suddenly. "All of you - who was the ringleader?"

Silence.

Astrid looked up at Odin fearfully. It hadn't been her idea _exactly_, with the fire, but if she had gone to training this morning none of it might have happened.

"Fine." Odin pinched the bridge of his nose in quiet rage. "I have no choice but to punish each of you _severely_, so as to see that nothing like this ever happens again."

Next to her, Volstagg shifted uncomfortably, and Fandral and Sif exchanged petrified glances.

"As you are but children, none of you will be burdened with eternal torment-"

Astrid's heart skipped a beat. _Eternal torment? That's _what could happen?

"-but understand, that if anything like anything likening to this happens ever again, such punishment as that _will _happen. Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral, you are to go to the library and spend the rest of the next sixteen hours salvaging any books that have not been burned beyond repair."

There wouldn't be many of those. Warriors had arrived to extinguish the inferno, but not before it had devoured most of the library.

"Sif, you are to personally apologize to the Book-keeper."

Sif gritted her teeth and nodded curtly. It was well-known that the Book-keeper was waspish to a fault. Needless to say, Sif had her work cut out for her.

"Now, leave."

The four of them started. What about Astrid?

_"_Please, children." Odin said, and Astrid could tell that they were testing his patience. Fandral stepped forwards bravely - or foolishly.

"Allfather, what about Astri-"

"_Leave!_" Odin boomed, his voice resonating. Fandral blanched, and nodded quickly, hightailing it out of the room without so much as a sympathetic glance in Astrid's direction. The second the door slammed shut, Odin ran a hand down his face. "Children," he muttered quietly to himself.

Astrid looked up at him, and then turned to Frigga, sitting elegantly next to Odin, for guidance. Frigga shook her head. "Allfather, please. I-"

He waved for her to be silent. "Astrid. I must be frank when I say that you and Loki have never enjoyed each other's company."

"Well... yes, Allfather." What else could she say?

"Nevertheless, I will not make assumptions as to who the head culprit was. While you and Loki are not confidants, I believe that the both of you should sustain a friendship of some kind. I can see no reason as to why not, can you?"

"No, Allfather."

"Therefore, I will leave you with two choices. Either, I leave Ægir and Rán to deal with you-"

Astrid involuntarily tensed. Her mother and father were estranged from their eldest daughter, at best, living far away, on the isle of Hlésey. They would not appreciate a disaster such as this staining their names.

"-or, I shall spare you from this, on the condition that you apologize _properly _to my younger son."

Astrid closed her eyes. She didn't think she was physically capable of doing that. Yet she opened her mouth anyway.

"I will apologize, Allfather, to Loki," Astrid grimaced.


	5. Chapter 5: Of Unease and Rescued Pages

A/N: If you read, please review! I like reviews. I like them a lot. Reviews are nice and extremely appreciated. Thank you and goodnight.

**Chapter 5: Of Discomfiture and Rescued Pages**

Astrid paused outside Loki's bedchambers. She squeezed her eyes shut, wondering if somehow she could weasel her way out of the apology.

No. She raised her fist and knocked on the intricately carved door, flinching when the noise echoed.

Silence.

_Well, I suppose there was always the possibility that he wouldn't be home. I should go and come back later-_

"Come in." A voice echoed from within.

Astrid cursed anyone who was listening, and opened the door.

Loki sat at the window, staring out at the city. He turned, emerald eyes cold, to stare at her. "What is it, Lady Astrid?"

Astrid cleared her throat. "Um. Prince Loki, I came to, um-" The tension in the room rose. Astrid had never felt so awkward in her life - most of the time time spent in Loki's company was time spent insulting him.

"Yes?" he sighed, and rolled his eyes. He was being cordial - and even that was a stretch.

"Um - I don't think... I came to-" Astrid shook her head and grinned uneasily. "To - to-"

"I'm waiting," he said, jaded.

"I, uh... I came to - that is, your father told me to come and..." she trailed off self-consciously, twisting her hands together.

"Please, just finish and leave." He snapped his eyes shut and pressed his thin lips together.

"No need to be touchy," Astrid snapped suddenly. "Um, sorry, I, uh-"

"Lady Astrid." Loki pushed himself off the window seat and walked towards her. She took a step back, and leaned against the doorframe, wishing she was anywhere but there. "You seem only to be comfortable when angry with me. If you wish to apologize, know that I will listen, but not accept it."

"What? Why not?" Astrid glared at him. "I'm here to offer you a perfectly good expression of regret, and whether or not you are a prince, _accept it!"_

He looked at her coolly. "No."

"_Why not?_" she cried.

Was that _pity _on his face? "Because. Hundreds of books are ruined because of you and your immature friends. And you think a simple apology will bring back millions of burned pages?"

Astrid looked down at her boots, quiet.

"Just leave, milady. I require no apology, because I know that, even if you do give me one, you will never mean it." Loki turned away, rubbing his hand.

For the first time, Astrid noticed the blistered skin on the back of his left hand. "Prince Loki-"

"What?"

"Your hand. I-"

"Yes. I am aware that it was burned in the fire," he interrupted her. "I was attempting to save a book; '_The Thought of Realms'. _A philosophical book. I don't expect you to have heard of it. After all-"

His voice reached a non-existent audience. Astrid had left.

**!~~!**

She stormed along the corridor, shooting a nearby servant the true definition of the evil eye. He quailed under her scowl and hurried away.

Astrid ran her hands through her fawn-colored hair and snarled at no one in particular. She stomped down a flight of stairs, took a left at a carved statue of Frigga and Odin dancing, and up two more staircases. If he wasn't going to accept her apology, fine, then-

She swerved and slammed open her bedchamber door, steaming.

Her bedchamber was simple and clean, and she liked to keep it that way. This wasn't her own bedchamber - not truly, anyway. While her mother and father lived on the isle far away, Astrid had been allowed a room at the palace. A four-poster bed lay in the corner, a white desk in another. Two wardrobes and a closet completed the room. Astrid collapsed on the bed, groaning.

And sprang immediately back up when something sharp dug painfully into her back.

She turned, fuming, to see the three books she had saved from the fire. They seemed pointless now; what reason had she for reading?

Astrid picked up the first book as though it were a particularly unappetizing piece of food. _'The Shadows of Alfheim' _the cover proclaimed in dignified script. She smirked and tossed it aside. The elves were all too perceptive anyway.

'_Yggdrasil; A Guide to the World Tree', _the second book screamed in large letters sprawling across the cover.

"Oh, please," she scoffed, and threw the book over her shoulder, considerably harder than the first book.

She paused suddenly. '_The Thought of Realms' _quietly lay on her bed. Hadn't that been the book that -

"Loki," she growled under her breath. "Take this as an apology, and be done with it."

!~~!

"Lady Astrid. I thought I made it crystal clear when I said-" Loki looked exasperated when he opened his door to her vexed face.

She narrowed her eyes. "You did. Now, here, before I change my mind." She shoved the three books, one on top of the other, into his arms. "Enjoy. Allfather knows no one else will."

With that, she walked away, not looking back, dusting her grubby hands off. Astrid heard Loki call her name faintly, but her stride didn't break as she moved further away. It was time to let off some steam, she decided, now that her punishment was over and done with.


	6. Chapter 6: Of Beasts and Weapons

**A/N:**Sorry for the prolonged period of wait-time. I was at summer camp, studing Shakespeare (I know, I know, I'm a nerd). Thanks to everyone who reviewed, including **Bacon-Chan**, **Cacow**, **Rikka-sama** and **ForeverisGone13**. Enjoy, and please review. Next chapter should be up very soon. Oh, and this chapter fast-forwards a little - everyone is a few years older.**  
**

**!~!**

_The World from Way Up Here  
_**By Alison Krauss**

_Wish I may_  
_Wish I might_  
_On my favorite star_  
_Let me feel, let me see_  
_The world from where you are._  
_Mountain high, valley low_  
_Where the wind is free_  
_I will feel I wll know_  
_The world the angels see_  
_Mister sun, I will run_  
_Rings around your sky._  
_And down below they'll finally know_  
_That this heart was made to fly._

**Chapter 6: Of Beasts and Weapons**

Astrid looked up, a confused look flashing across her freckled features. "Sorry?"

"We're finally going to prove ourselves as Athenian warriors."

"Are you crazy?" Astrid stood up. "Prince Thor, you cannot be serious. We are not Athenian warriors yet; we have yet to reach adolescence: we are all but fifteen years of age-"

"You are fourteen," Thor reminded her, grinning.

She frowned, irritated at the reminder. "That is beside the point. We need not get into anymore trouble. Already, we are in enough - messing with the feast on your mother's creation-day, accidently planting those lachrymators in the throne room, and let's not forget that you got lost on a hunting trip but two days ago."

Fandral nodded without taking his eyes off the parchment he was reading. "Astrid is right, Thor."

"Agreed." Sif stood and walked over to Thor, looking him fiercely in the eye. "_No."_

"I think it would be fun."

"Excuse me?" Astrid turned to face Volstagg incredulously. "We would all _die."_

"Why not put it to a vote, then?" Thor put in. "Be diplomatic about it."

"Alright." Sif agreed. "I vote 'no way: this is going to get us killed'."

"And I vote 'no way this is going to get us killed'," Thor quipped, playing with Sif's words.

"Nay," Fandral agreed.

Astrid nodded. "Nay."

Volstagg shook his head in mock despair. "Where are your senses of adventure?"

"Where is _your _common sense?" Astrid sallyed.

"Back along with your senses of adventure." Volstagg rolled his eyes. "I say we go."

Hogun regarded them all with a wise look. Then utterly dropped a bomb when he remarked, "I agree with Volstagg. Let us go."

Fandral rounded on him. "Are _you _mad, Hogun?"

"No. I am not. Let us leave it at that. I wish to prove myself as well." Hogun nodded.

"Well. What now? The vote is tied." Thor groaned, crossing his arms childishly.

"Let us go."

Everyone turned in one motion to see Loki standing, half-cloaked by the early morning shadows, on the outskirts of the room. His dark eyes regarded them sagely, the wisdom in them beyond his years. This infuriated her.

"Loki," Astrid spat angrily. "No one asked for your opinion."

"And yet it would seem that you need it," Loki responded coolly, fixing Astrid with a frosty glare. "Without an odd number, you six would be here all day, arguing."

"Loki is correct." With that, Thor stood. "Let us go!" He strode out the door, quickly followed by Volstagg and Hogun, and Fandral and Sif.

Loki lifted a foot as if to follow his brother, but stopped, and turned to face Astrid. "Whether you like it or not, Lady Astrid, I am your superior," he said brusquely. "So I suggest you_ watch your tone_."

Astrid reddened, but stormed out the door without acknowledging that Loki had said anything. He smirked and followed her.

!~~!

"Is the Swords-master in here?" Volstagg whispered, poking his head into the armory. The shadows concealed most, but a few lonely rays of sunlight streamed in through the windows and illuminated the dust.

Silence.

"No, then." He walked - no, _swaggered_ - in as though he owned it.

Astrid tentatively crept after him, followed by the others. "What exactly are we doing in here?"

"Well, you didn't exactly expect us to prove ourselves by taking it on with our bare hands, did you?" Thor asked incredulously. "Come, pick your poison."

Sif walked to a two-bladed sword and yanked it out of its sheath, testing its weight. "They are beautiful weapons," she mused. "Will we be stealing them by... _borrowing _them?" She bit her lip as she debated over which shield to use - there was a row of half a dozen by the blacksmith's fire.

"Of course not!" Volstagg boomed, a little louder than necessary, flipping a large, double-headed axe in his hands and grinning as the sun flashed off the metal. "Right - I have my weapon. Let's go."

Fandral lifted a gorgeous sword out of the sword-rack. "This one is almost as handsome as me." On closer inspection, he added, "Almost, but not quite."

Astrid shoved him lightly as she passed by. Spying a bow, she wished suddenly that she had taken the time to learn to shoot - it was beautiful, curved, made finely of yew. But she had simply not had the reason to learn - after all, what need should an Asgardian have for a bow? It was a long-ranging weapon, and most prefered to fight hand-to-hand. Still... Shaking her head, she stood on her toes to pull a gleaming hook-sword out of an overhead rack.

Swords had always been her best department, even if she wasn't as good as Fandral and Sif. The hook-sword, however, had always done the work for her. There was a blade where a hilt would have been, sharpened into a dagger. The pommel she clutched at was covered by a crescent guard that she could use to block attack. And finally, the blade itself: long and sharpened, it curved into a wicked hook that gleamed in the sunlight. Astrid grinned.

Hogun hefted a large morningstar - a short-staff with a brutal spiked ball on the top. "This will suffice," he said to no one in particular, as Loki drew a short sword out of a dusty rack. He turned it over in his hands skeptically, looking as though he didn't truly need it.

Thor stared at a hammer, lying in the center of the room. Astrid raised an eyebrow.

"What's Mjölnir doing here? Isn't it normally in the throne room?"

Thor nodded slowly, reaching out to touch the leather-bound handle. "I would use it, though." Mjölnir stayed silent, the cold metal seemingly taunting the young prince.

"You cannot lift it," Fandral commented. "Only Odin is capable of that."

"Yet." Nonetheless, Thor attempted. Astrid watched in amused silence as the young boy, blond hair flopping into his eyes, strained to lift the hammer. When it became clear that neither Thor nor the hammer would relent, Astrid rolled her eyes.

"Please, Thor," she scoffed. "The day you wield Mjölnir is the day I wear a dress. Just choose another weapon. We must leave before we are discovered."

"Very well." He straightened up and left the hammer with one last mournful look, before grabbing a long staff, testing it in one hand. "But I shall hold you to that claim - when Mjölnir is mine, you shall wear a dress."

Astrid snorted and lead the way out of the door.

!~!

"There it lies," Thor hissed, glancing over the top of the rock. He quickly pulled his head back down again.

Astrid's stomach turned and she clutched her hook sword in her left hand. "Thor, this - this will never work. A _lindworm? _We will be killed!"

"There are seven of us, Astrid." Thor grinned. "And one of it."

"It's _venomous_! And huge! Its head is bigger than my entire body!"

"Do you wish to turn back?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

She bared her teeth at him. "No."

"Anyone?"

A silence ensued. Then Fandral hissed, "Let's get on with it, shall we?"

"Yes. Astrid, Hogun - east of the worm. Sif, Volstagg - west. Loki, Fandral - south, to its tail. And I will go north - to its head."

Astrid leaped over the rock concealing them from the beast, Hogun on her heels, his morningstar slung over his shoulder.

The lindworm's den lay, practically encased, by a stone fortress. Crudely made out of mismatched rocks, it slept quietly on the far outskirts of Asgard. For the most part. The lindworm itself was a gigantic monster, a scaly, black reptile with two front legs and a spiked tail. With a huge dragon-like head and even bigger claws, it was a formidable demon to battle.

Astrid glanced back. The horses they had taken (_borrowed_) to reach the giant snake's den were nervous, swishing their tails and prancing ever so slightly about 20 hart-lengths away, but they were well-trained enough to know to keep quiet and stay ground-tied.

The ravine they were in was mostly obscured from sight of those above... but they were less than 4 hart-lengths away from the brute. She swallowed the nagging sense of doubt that egged at her and moved forward, to wait for Thor's signal. The snake shifted and turned in its sleep, and Astrid froze, seeing Hogun, out of the corner of her eye, do the same.

Once the beast slipped back into a deep slumber, Astrid crouched and waited.

The signal came a few seconds later.

Hogun leaped past her, faster than she had ever seen him move, and swung his morningstar into the lindworm's neck, drawing a steady spout of crimson blood. First blood. It woke immediately.

Roaring in pain and anger, it raised a front claw and smashed it down towards Hogun. A spear clattering off its head stopped it from crushing Hogun completely. It flicked its tongue out and turned, spiked tail whipping dangerously.

Thor screamed a battle cry and jumped onto the snake's back, digging his spear past the beast's armor-like scales, into the soft flesh below.

Sif stabbed her sword into the end of the tail, and had to raise her shield to deflect the furious worm's claw. Even so, she was knocked to the ground.

Fandral and Volstagg darted around, drawing pockets of red wherever they could, while Loki appeared and disappeared, holding the snake's attention.

Astrid leaped into the fray, hook-sword lifted high over her head.

And immediately realized it was suicide.

**!~!**

**A/N:** Duh duh duhhhh! Ah, the hook-sword. Good weapon. Thanks for reading, and please review!**  
**


	7. Chapter 7: Of Blood and Smoke

**_Chapter 7: Of Blood and Smoke_**

She saw the lindworm's claw swinging towards her at a frightening speed. Suppressing an instinctual shriek, she flipped the sword around to the point and drove it into soft flesh just underneath the claw. The lindworm's scream filled the air, drowning out all other noise, and a gush of russet blood coated Astrid from the knees down. She made a face of disgust and looked up.

To meet the lindworm's green-as-envy eyes, staring straight at her. Indeed, his head alone was bigger than she was. Time froze for the few seconds she stood there, and a blast of rancid worm-breath hit her. The red tongue flicked out again.

She opened her mouth to let out a battle-cry, but all that came out was a tiny shriek of fear. Somewhere inside her, her subconscious put its hands on its figurative hips, shaking its head. _Yes, that's definitely going to convince it that you're a force to be afraid of. Get a move on!_

The snake roared and lunged for her, fangs bared.

Astrid hefted the sword over her head. The snake's left tooth clanged bone-jarringly off the sword's handle, with a heavy, dull ring that echoed around the cavern.

The worm reared back, balancing on its tail. Astrid adjusted the grip on her sword, and forgot that the others were even there. Her eyes, round as dinner plates, travelled up the snake's long, scaly body to its head, positioned perfectly so that it blocked out the entire sun. Instead, the golden rays lashed out behind the worm, forming a halo that seemed amusingly out of place.

The worm was suddenly back down on its feet again, raising up two large clouds of dust. Vaguely, Astrid heard a screech of pain, but it seemed a million hart-lengths away. Astrid raised the sword shakily, hook first.

"Come and get me," she muttered.

As the snake's eyes locked once more with her's, her breathing slowed, calmed. And she drove the hook around the fang as it came towards her and pulled back with all her might.

In a strange moment of quiet, Astrid thought that it was funny that the worm's dislodged fang now lay in the rubble at her feet. The curved, ivory tooth looked mournful, if anything.

But, as she stared at the fang, Astrid heard a strange, strangled noise, like that of a branch giving way under weight.

Suddenly, a bloom of red appeared right in front of her, and she was _blind._ Then, came the pain. At first, a dull throbbing agony, it sharpened and intensified until it raged all over her body. Everywhere was red, red, red. She felt to her knees, and clawed at her face. She wanted to scream in pain, but she was too occupied with trying to stay conscious. Somehow her mouth opened and an animal screech of torture rang out anyway.

Dimly, she smelled smoke, and someone calling out for her. Astrid stumbled to her feet, one hand clutching at her face, feeling it become coated with the blood that was flowing out of _her_ body, the other groping for something, anything to hold onto. Her hook-sword was gone, but she barely noticed.

Astrid's foot _clacked _against something and she fell to the ground, coughing as the smoke pressed against her face. She tried desperately to wipe the blood out of her face, but to no avail. Her hand bumped against something long and smooth. The lindworm's tooth.

_The lindworm._

Something rustled behind her and she whirled on her knees, clutching the tooth - as if it would do anything. She wondered suddenly, almost humorously, why the venom on the tooth wasn't burning her hands. _Perhaps it's not venom-filled anymore. _Even in her blindness, she could have sworn she could see the silhouette of the lindworm, coming closer, to finish her off-

In a blind panic, she struck out, blood and smoke filling her mouth. Something caught her hand, and she twisted, opening her mouth to scream again-

"_Be quiet, will you_?" a voice hissed, clapping one hand over her mouth.

She moaned in response, relieved that it was not the snake. "My- my-"

"Oh, Allfather... _your face_-" the voice breathed, taking a hand off her mouth. "Come. Quick, before the worm comes back for the rest of you."

Tripping after whoever it was who had a death-grip on her hand, she followed him, tears beginning to trickle out of her eyes and mingle with the blood flowing out of her wound.

**!~!~!~!~!**

Shakily, Astrid put a hand up to the left side of her face. Where she should have felt an eyebrow and two rows of long, dark lashes, there was... nothing. Just flesh, charred to the touch, but at least no longer bleeding. She gasped in pain as her fingers cautiously probed the skin around her eye, which, thankfully, hadn't closed over.

"Mirror," she demanded suddenly, startling the chambermaid on the other side of the room.

"My lady," the shaken lady murmured, looking past Astrid rather than_ at _her, "I think it is best if-"

"Bring me my hand mirror," Astrid hissed, "_now_."

Slowly, the silent maid picked up the oval mirror lying on the table and brought it over to her. With a deep breath, Astrid lifted it to reflect her face,

The first thing she saw was her hair. The already short hair had been singed away at the edges, looking for all the world as though it had been eaten by poison. Her olive skin was reddened, almost comically, to the point of resembling sunburn. All in all, she thought, it wasn't too drastic of an injury.

Then she registered the wound.

Her mind had been unconsciously blocking it out, but Astrid could ignore it no longer. One scorched, red gash ripped diagonally across her face, narrowly missing her left eye and piercing the bridge of her nose perfectly. A dry sob escaped her lips as she took in the sliced corner of her lip. The wound was clean, but now the most noticeable feature of her face. As she stared at herself, a tear welled up in the corner of her eye. It leaked down her cheek and stung viciously at her wound. Astrid swiped, furiously, only inflaming it further, and cried out in pain as her fingers teased gently at the tissue.

"Damn," she whispered to herself, her eyes burning.

The chambermaid, plumping the pillows resting on the white window-seat, turned. "Sorry, miss?"

"Leave now," she choked out. "_Please_." Astrid had the sudden feeling the maid was laughing at her. "You have somewhere else to be."

Regardless of whether or not the maid was snickering behind Astrid's back, she picked up the hint quickly, curtsying herself out of the room.

Astrid shut her eyes tightly and threw herself against a pillow. Once more, her hand crept up to feel the wound. This would never truly heal, she knew. A gash like this, reinforced by the poison of the lindworm, would be there forever. She would be scarred for the rest of her life.

Her eyes shot open and she hurled the mirror across the room with such force that it shattered against the wall. She snarled.

"You know, they say breaking a mirror brings seven years of bad luck." A handsome, blond head poked itself around the open door.

"Frankly, Thor, I can't see how my luck could get any worse." Astrid rose unsteadily to her feet as Thor walked in.

"Nonsense. You're still alive - and you're very lucky to be so. Only the quick work of the healers kept your entire face from being eaten away by the rest of the -"

Astrid's expression grew stormier. "Do not make light of this."

Thor's hand travelled up to touch his hair. "Apologies. Do... can you still-"

"Yes, I can still see. With both eyes. The _amazing _healers of Asgard managed that, at least." Her voice was stiff, her expression was unreadable.

"Well... are you coming? The others have been worried. Your - your wound should be okay to move around, and-"

"No!" she cried suddenly, making Thor jump. "I can't let them see me like this! _You _wouldn't have seen me like this, if it weren't for that idiotic maid..."

"Why can't you let the others see you? It is a battle-wound, like my father's. You should be proud to wear it!" His eyes glistened innocently. "Why, I would love to have-"

"How did we escape?" She tried to change the subject.

He smiled humorlessly. "Loki conjured a smoke cloud, or something. It worked like a charm."

"Clearly."

There was a pause. Thor scuffed the toe of his boot into the marble floor.

"Thor, thanks." Astrid could see he was the wrong person to be talking to. A boy wouldn't understand. "Please, if you see Sif, send her to me?"

He nodded, sombre. "Of course. And... I truly am sorry." He was trying hard to be sympathetic.

"Again, my thanks."

Thor left silently. Astrid half-wanted to call him back, but the other half of her knew he could not say or do anything to make her mood any better.

Astrid made her way to her clothes, hanging in a compartment inside one of the white walls. She traded her blood-splattered nightgown (which someone had put her in, at some point, she noted angrily) for a plain blue doublet and long, gray breeches. Around her neck, she fastened a silver necklace sporting a small hawk (a present from her last birthday), and around her waist, a thin leather belt. Last, she considered letting her hair down, to better hide the wound, but decided nothing like that would conceal it. She pulled it up into a braid.

A dark mist crept into the room suddenly, and Astrid whirled. This was some trick, surely. Her breath quickened in fear as a black shape slunk into the room, close to the floor, as though it was stalking prey. It raised its head and looked into her eyes. Red irises met hazel. The snake was the size of a horse - it flicked its red tongue out and reared back, pointed fangs bared -

"Very nice, Loki," Astrid remarked, to conceal the terrified fluttering in her stomach.

Loki entered, stepping gracefully through the doorway. His thin black eyebrow were sloped downwards over unreadable eyes. Fine chiseled cheekbones cupped a humorless smile. "Just a bit of fun."

"Fun it may have been, but funny it wasn't."

"How are you feeling?" Loki asked, as though he couldn't care less.

Astrid stiffened. "Fine, thank you," she said coolly. _Leave. Leave now._

Loki didn't get the message. "You don't seem fine."

"I will be scarred for the _rest of my life_." She turned to look at him scornfully, gesturing at her wound. "I suppose you and the others got away unhurt."

His green gaze levelled on her. "Actually, Sif's arm is broken, but that -"

"-Should be healed in a matter of days, of course. Not like a scar reinforced by poison." Astrid swallowed and willed him to leave.

He didn't. Instead, a disarming smirk crossed his lips. "No reason to become bitter, Lady Astrid. You're still alive."

"The same argument your brother made. And _surprisingly_, it's not making me feel any better." She yanked at her hair and crossed to the other side of the room, where the shards of mirror lay. She picked up the largest and held it up. The wound leered back at her.

"Quite the razor-tongue today, aren't we?" There was a tone of sarcasm in his voice.

She sighed, barely holding in her impatience. "Why are you here, Loki?"

"I thought you might want to thank me." He said it so smoothly, it infuriated her further.

"For _what_, exactly? For voting 'aye' to go on the 'adventure' that nearly cost us our lives and gave me this?" She pointed, seething, to her wound again.

Loki smiled. His slicked-back, black hair matched his slicked-back, black grin. "I see."

"You see _what_?" she raised her voice about ten pitches too high. Her voice ripped through the octaves brutally, her throat ending slightly sore, although the pain was worth it to watch Loki wince in pain as her shrill voice grated across the room. But her gloating was cut short as she hacked a cough. "What, pray tell?" Another cough.

"Nothing. Swift recovery, Lady Astrid." He gave a shallow bow and swept himself out of the room, not looking back.

Astrid resisted the urge to screech in frustration. Instead she threw the shard of mirror down and crushed it viciously with her foot. The shard splintered under the weight, drawing the slightest trail of ruby droplets from her foot.

"Haven't you bled enough today?"

"_Valhalla!_ _Will no one shut the damned door - _oh. Evening, Sif." Astrid ducked her head in front of the older girl, flushing.

Sif just smiled - and for once, it wasn't a smirk. Her left arm was bandaged and pressed against her chest, speckled slightly with what looked like rust. A beige dress hung limply around her ankles, and her hair was loose around her shoulders for once. Sif looked tired, haggard even. Her drawn eyes appraised in her friend's new features coolly."How are you, Astrid?"

Astrid had to give Sif some credit for not reeling back in horror. "Everyone keeps asking me that, and I keep telling them 'fine'. But -"

"You're not."

"No. I'm not." There was a pause, and Astrid shifted from foot to foot, very conscious of her face. "Did Thor-"

"Yes. He said you wanted to see me."

Another pause.

Sif sighed and ran a hand through her dark hair. "Did you want to tell me something?"

Astrid bit her lip gently. "Sif, we never should have-" She choked off in the middle of her sentence. _No, don't cry. You sløv - just get away, don't let Sif see you-_ She blinked, hard, trying to stop it before it started, and a single, fat tear welled out of her eye and rolled its way down her scarred cheek, narrowly missing the wound.

Sif deliberated, her eyes wide and unsure, what to do. Astrid turned away from the older warrior, her face colored scarlet with shame. _A warrior isn't supposed to cry!_

"Hey... Astrid?" Sif tapped lightly on her shoulder. "It's... it's okay."

"No. It's no-t-t-t." Her voice shook, and she turned to face Sif, the skin around her eyes puffy and red. Tears trickled down her face.

Sif clumsily reached out a hand, feeling a little panicked. She had no idea what to do with the younger girl. Sparring for hours on end was easier than this!

Instead of taking Sif's proffered hand, Astrid closed her eyes and crossed to the other side of the room, picking up a discarded face towel that had been left behind by the maid. She dragged it over her face, gasping a little but ignoring the blinding pain that burst out when the towel covered the wound.

Sif coughed. "Astrid, do you want me here?" Her tone was kind, if a little businesslike.

There was no answer for a minute. Astrid lifted her face from the towel to look at Sif. "Can - can-" she hiccuped, and stopped trying to talk.

Thankfully, Sif guessed instead. "You let me know when you're ready to talk, okay?" She walked over and put a steady arm around the smaller girl's shoulders. Not a hug, exactly, but a clumsy approximation of one. "Just... keep going."

Astrid nodded mutely, rubbing at her left eye with two fingers. She was grateful for Sif's concern, at least, but had realized that she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. Selfish, maybe, but true.

The raven-haired girl walked to the door and paused. "This won't be any consolation, but at least you're still alive."

Astrid didn't answer. She'd heard that enough today.

But Sif wasn't done. "I mean, if it wasn't for him, you definitely wouldn't be." And finally she left.

Astrid let her chest deflate, and another sob broke out of her throat. She sat heavily down onto the unmade bed and put her head in her hands, drowning in self-pity.

Certainly, she was still alive. But she was weeping inside - for her vanity, for her selfishness, for her foolishness, for her luck. All of which she had too much of.

In the back of her mind, though, through the mist of the pain and self-commiseration, a small voice murmured, "'_Him'? Who is 'Him'?"_

**_!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!_**

**A/N: **Big ol' life changing moment are always nice**. **Yay! Scarred for life! Oh, wait. That's bad. Anyhoo... the relationships as kids are fun to write, but I think soon they'll be (*insert little kid voice*) _awl gwown wup._ Aww. One or two more chapters. Unless you guys want more kid-time or whatever-you-call-it. Thanks to ForeverisGone13 and Bacon-Chan for reviewing; you guys are my 'regulars' for this story... I think. Thanks for reading, the rest of you, and please review!


	8. Chapter 8: Of Lessons and Growing

_Yesterday, a child came out to wander_  
_Caught a dragonfly inside a jar_  
_Fearful when the sky was full of thunder_  
_And tearful at the falling of a star_

_And the seasons they go 'round and 'round_  
_And the painted ponies go up and down_  
_We're captive on the carousel of time_  
_We can't return we can only look behind_  
_From where we came_  
_And go round and round and round_  
_In the circle game_

_~The Circle Game, Joni Mitchell_

**Chapter 8: Of Lessons and Growing**

Loki laid down his cards triumphantly, a smug look in his green eyes. "Two eights and a four."

Fandral threw his cards down on the table, the beginnings of a golden beard twitching in anger. "You're cheating, Odinson!"

Loki smirked and looked around at the others. "Any others?"

Astrid placed her cards slowly on the table. "Two eights and a five. I win again." She allowed herself a grin of satistfaction, relishing the feel of victory - even if it was just a game of cards. "That's five matches in a row, I believe?"

Loki's smile disappeared, to be replaced by glare. Silently, he stood and stalked off, muttering something about cheating.

Hogun shook his head and gathered up his cards emotionlessly. "How do you _always_ win?"

Astrid shrugged. "Luck, I suppose. And skill." _And a little help from the wonders of a vanity mirror. _She glanced up at the half-concealed mirror, squeezed between two of the low rafters, allowing her a near-perfect view of the others' cards. Cheating, perhaps, but anything to prove to the others that she, the youngest of all, could keep up. Her gaze caught her own face, and she stared sullenly at the mark etched into her face. The scar had long since healed, but there was no spell for the reversal of the disfigurement. Astrid had learned to live with it, and everyone around her had long since learned not to mention it.

"Well, congratulations, Astrid, and no, I will not be playing again. I think we all know the outcome." Thor stood and stretched. "I'm bored, anyways. Let's go spar, or something of that nature." He ran a hand through his wavy blonde hair and straightened his brown doublet.

Everyone rose with him. Whether or not they wanted to continue playing, it was Thor's choice. As one unit, the group of teenage Asgardians headed for the courtyard.

"_Lady Sif? Lady Astrid?_" a high-pitched voice sang out. A tall girl with sapphire-blue eyes and inky black hair that cascaded down to the small of her back hurried into the lounge, the flames in the central hearth flickering and casting shadows only her porcelain face.

Astrid rolled her eyes at Sif and turned to meet the elder girl's gaze with a forced smile. "Lady Amora," she choked out through gritted teeth. "How wonderful to see you."

Amora curtsied deeply; being the 'lowly' daughter of the captain of the palace guards meant that she showed respect to higher-born ladies. "Sif, Astrid, the queen has want of you."

Sif was more gracious than Astrid. She nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Lady Amora. We shall be along presently."

Amora floated out of the room, her ebony hair shining in the growing light from the sun showing its face over the mountains in the east.

Sif made to follow Amora, but Astrid grabbed her arm.

"Do we have to go?" she pleaded. "This will be about 'growing up into proper ladies and not spending all our time sparring', I just know it! And Amora will be there, and she's such a _tik_." Tik being the polite word for female dog, of course, and Sif knew it.

Sif sighed and removed the younger girl's arm gently. "Queen Frigga called us, and we must answer, lest we fall out of favor with her. Now come, Astrid."

"I don't want to." Astrid crossed her arms. "Excuse me if I happen to dislike being told my hair is messy and I'm too short and I can't dance."

"Honestly, Astrid, one would think you were five as opposed to fifteen. You've flowered, yes?" Sif made a _get out of here _motion with her hands to the Warriors Three and Thor, who edged towards the courtyard as the conversation took a turn for the uncomfortable.

"Of course I have!" Astrid glared at Sif indignantly. "Quite a few years ago, I'll have you know!"

"Then you are a woman. And women have to learn to behave properly."

"_Since when have you been so womanly and proper?_" asked Astrid shrilly.

"Since I have been campaigning with Odin to let women be feared warriors as well as men. He will only agree if we can prove ourselves as women as well as warriors." Sif grabbed her friend's hand and hauled her out of the lounge before Astrid could demand as to why _she_ wasn't a part of this campaign.

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"_Chapter 1. At the age of sixteen an Asgardian girl is considered a woman. She will begin attending balls and feasts, and should know the proper means of charming her hosts and guests. The knowledge of politics, wars, languages, magyks, literature, music, arts and dancing are essential. Sixteen is also the accepted age of courtship. Gentlemen will begin to pursue eligible young ladies they have admired for some time, and betrothals will be arranged by parents and guardians, the knowledge of such betrothals being revealed to the two to-be-weds on the elder's twenty-first birthday. Marriage is also an important part of any Asgardian's life, as it assures a place for them in the social structure. But we are getting ahead of ourselves here. As it is well understood, most ladies will begin to take proper notice of Asgardians of the opposite gender by the age of fifteen-_" Astrid snapped the heavy, dusty book shut, irked. "Of course I take notice of boys like Fandral and Hogun! I spar and play cards and eat and play with them, don't I?"

Frigga coughed gently, and Astrid reddened slightly, understanding the meaning within the text. She tucked a lock of shoulder-blade length hair behind her ear self-consciously. "Apologies, my queen."

Frigga smiled forgivingly. "Accepted, Astrid." She turned gracefully to face the six faces looking up at her with a range of emotions; expectancy, anticipation, glee and frustration. "While most of you are sixteen, you have not yet been to a proper Asgardian dance. Many of you will have been to feast, I have no doubt. But soon enough will come time to court, and you will all need to know the proper responses to a boy's advances."

Astrid looked around the throne room, in which the six girls had gathered to meet the queen; Sif and herself in loose-fitting, comfortable jerkins and breeches meant for boys, Amora and her two cronies in tight-fitting dresses that showed off their sixteen-year old busts to a full extent, and two other plain girls who Astrid held nothing but contempt for, as they were the daughters of the head servants and destined for nothing but for the lives of chambermaids and servingwomen. She curled her lip slightly in disgust as one of the homely girls scratched at her nose with a dirty, yellowish fingernail.

She glanced back at Frigga, who was looking directly at her as if she could tell Astrid was not paying attention. But Astrid's thoughts drifted to her friends, wondering if time could have possible passed so quickly. Their encounter with the lindworm could not have been more than three months ago, yet suddenly swords and spears had changed to ladies-in-waiting begging her to put on a corset and perfume. Surely, the Warriors Three and the princes were spending more time in the library with Asgard's scholars than in the courtyard sparring these days, but they couldn't be possibly be studying 'gentlemanly ways' and the proper way to 'court a girl', could they?

Yech.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**A/N: **And chapter end. Sorry for the long wait... I've got the next three chapters planned out and they ain't pretty. Growing up in Asgard isn't easy...

Hopefully you guys liked the montage-ish-ness of this chapter, it was only because I had written a bunch of scenes and didn't know how to connect them. This is basically** Part 1** to this sequence, I'll put **Part 2** up now and start working on **Part 3**. **Part 1** is short, **Part 2** is longer and **Part 3** is longest. Wish me luck!

Thanks to reviewers (I wuv you guys!), thanks to Miss Beta (algie888).

Review, please! I do like reviews (if you didn't know already). :)


	9. Chapter 9: Of Dances and New Knowledge

_Do you remember when we were just kids_  
_And cardboard boxes took us miles from what we would miss_  
_Schoolyard conversations taken to heart_  
_And laughter took the place of everything we knew we were not_

_I wanna break every clock_  
_The hands of time could never move again_  
_We could stay in this moment (stay in this moment)_  
_For the rest of our lives_  
_Is it over now hey, hey, is it over now_

~ Anberlin_, Inevitable_

**Chapter 9: Of Dances and New Knowledge**

Apparently, these coming-of-age lessons were to be a constant and nearly everyday part of Astrid's life. She sat down to dinner, exhausted. Sif grinned at her.

"Tired?"

Astrid stiffened, not wanting to look weak. "No," she said hurriedly, "Not at all." She quickly tried to divert the subject as she grabbed a leg of meat that was sitting on a golden platter in the middle of the table and poured herself a glass of port, which was immediately snatched up by Fandral, who was passing by. He downed the sweet, red wine in one gulp, grinning at her scowl.

"You're too young to drink such strong stuff as port, anyways, Astrid," he said after a contented sigh.

"As are you!" With a huff of annoyance, she reached for the jug that held a whiter, darker kind of wine.

"One would like to think that water would satisfy a fifteen year old," Thor gave her a pointed look, "as well as a sixteen year old." His gaze switched to Fandral.

Astrid poked out her tongue. "Water's plain and dull, and only plain and dull people drink it."

"Just ask for a glass of water, Astrid," Thor said resignedly as he sat down and tore into a hunk of meat.

"What's gotten into you, Thor?" Sif asked incredulously. "You're never this serious and mature."

Astrid piped up, a grin stretched across her scarred face. "I think he's sick. Let's take him to the healers, _please_." Thor hated the healers above all others, because of a rather unfortunate accident when he had been truly small. The young prince had fallen off a horse and twisted his hip, and one of the younger healers, eager to prove herself, accidentally broke Thor's arm as well. Suffice to say, the crown prince of Asgard was not eager to go back to the healing ward anytime soon.

Volstagg snorted and clapped Thor on the back, causing him to choke on his food. "Our friend here is just a little nervous," he chuckled, "that soon these studying sessions with philosophers in the library will turn to ballroom dancing and chivalry lessons."

Thor grumbled something incoherent, looking darkly into his golden goblet.

"It will soon enough," Fandral reassured him gleefully. "There will be plenty of balls to satisfy your obviously voracious appetite, Thor."

Thor groaned, and slammed his head down onto the table.

Astrid watched all of this curiously, wondering what a real coming-of-age ball would be like, and whether or not it would be as strange and frightening as that one day, at least three years ago now, when her curiosity had once again gotten the better of her...

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

_Over the dinner table where she, the princes, the Warriors Three and Sif sat, Astrid leant over to talk to the only other girl. "Sif, as your junior, I address you as a sister. May you tell me something?"_

_Sif blinked once at the formality of the younger girl's tone, and moved in her seat to face her. "Of course, Astrid. What is it?" Sif moved to take a sip of water, pausing slightly as the younger girl struggled with her words._

_Astrid blushed furiously, and forced out a string of words in a strangled whisper. "Have you ever… kissed anyone?"_

_Sif spat the water out onto whoever was directly opposite her. _

_"Oh, marvelous," deadpanned Loki, grimacing. He lifted a soaked sleeve of his shirt. "Simply marvelous. I suppose you would not care if I told you that this was a new tunic? No, I didn't think you would."_

_Sif ignored him. "Astrid, we can't talk of this now! Not here!" _

_Astrid frowned. "Why not? Everyone seems to do it. I mean, look over at where Hersil and Horsa are," she said, and waved her hand at a table somewhere behind them. The grouped, interest piqued, turned to see. Hersil, a young Crimson Hawk guard, and Horsa, daughter of a lady of court, were fused rather scandalously at the mouth. Volstagg's fork dropped from his hands, and landed against the gold metal plate with a resounding crack. _

_"What pleasant cabaret," remarked Loki, and turned back to his meal. All the others seemed frozen to their seats. He chewed languidly, and swallowed, eyebrows knitted together in confusion when he saw that they had not moved. "This is somewhat perverse," he commented, watching them._

_Astrid sighed with irritation- would no one explain to her? Fandral caught her eye, and chuckled. "Come now, Az, what is the matter?"_

_"What is the point of kissing?" she asked, somewhat desperately. "All it seems like is a sharing of saliva, and a rather gross interpretation of a squid, but all of you treat it as some sort of sanctimonious ritual! It is pointless! Why do you stare at it so?"_

_Fandral laughed, and patted her hand. "Oh, Az. So young, so innocent," he teased, and pinched her cheek. "Don't knock it till you try it."_

_Astrid huffed. "I hope I never will."_

_"Nonsense!" laughed Fandral. "It is a delightful activity to take part in! Especially what comes after, if one is lucky enough."_

_"Fandral!" snapped Sif, Volstagg and Thor in unison, while Loki looked faintly disgusted. The younger prince placed his fork back on his plate, no longer interested in eating. _

_Astrid frowned. "What happens after?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in confusion. _

_Thor gulped, and turned to look at Sif. "All those in favor of saying that is a woman's business, say 'aye'."_

_"Aye," the rest of the group cried heartily, besides Sif, who sat there glowering. _

_"Sif?" questioned Astrid, turning to her. Sif groaned and massaged her temples, wondering how exactly to go about this. _

_"What a sheltered little girl," murmured Volstagg. "How have you been a friend with Fandral, yet not know what goes on behind his door?"_

_Fandral cuffed his friend rather hard over the head. "Nothing goes on behind my doors!" Quieter, he added slyly, "Not yet, anyways. But just you wait..." _

_Loki groaned, his head hitting the table. "Is this truly what is deemed appropriate dinner conversation?"_

_"She started it." Sif turned to Astrid. "You'd better go to Queen Frigga. She'll explain."_

_A twelve-year old Astrid emerged, an hour later, from Frigga's letter room. The girl's face was white, her jaw unhinged, and eyes wider than dinner plates. _

_Oh. _

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

In few other words, weeks turned into months and months passed. Much as she tried to resist, Astrid had to admit that dancing lessons were intriguing - especially when they consisted of Amora or one of her friends trying to convince a skeptical boy to partner with them. Most of the young ladies' lessons consisted of Frigga or another one of the ladies-in-waiting. Astrid spent most of her time staring out of the balcony, longing to be elsewhere.

If there was one thing she didn't realize, it was that, however unwillingly, she was painfully slowly turning into a lady... of sorts.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Sif leapt towards her, staff held aloft. Astrid crouched low to the ground and raised her own swiftly so that the two long, wooden sticks clashed towards with a _thwack_. Sif backed off and expertly twirled her staff in front of her.

"Show-off," Astrid muttered, feinting to the left and poking the end of her staff to the right. Sif easily deflected it.

"Keep up, Astrid!" she called, sweeping her staff in a low arc along the ground to knock her opponent's feet out from under her.

Astrid thrust her stick into the dirt underneath them and used to the force to push herself up and away from Sif's attack. She landed gracefully in a defensive position, a few feet away from Sif.

"You've been practising," Sif remarked, smiling as she advanced.

Astrid glowed with the praise. "I have."

Sif feinted to the right, spun to the left, struck her friend a dazing blow on the head, and, before Astrid could retaliate, swung her staff and knocked Astrid to the ground.

Astrid's head spun slightly as she cried, "No fair!"

Sif grinned like a cheshire cat as she helped Astrid up. "Well, you've been practicing, but obviously not enough."

Astrid glowered half-heartedly. "Be quiet."

Amora emerged into the training yard, hands clasped in front of her. Her long, red, tight-fitting dress trailed in the straw and she looked faintly repulsed. "Lessons, you two," she informed them snootily, being far less polite. Amora was the most 'advanced' pupil in their lessons, and knew it. "Hurry up." And she walked out of the courtyard.

Astrid picked up a stone and threw it in Amora's direction, missing her on purpose. The raven-haired beauty turned and threw the younger girl a stormy look.

Sif exhaled sharply. "Come. I believe we're dancing with partners today." She dropped her staff and followed Amora.

Astrid groaned and trailed along, dragging her feet.

"Now, place your hand upon my waist."

Loki's face twisted in disgust. "Your _where?_"

Astrid's eyes narrowed as she clenched his hand tightly, her colored nails biting deep into his skin. "Just do it, Loki. I'm not asking you to marry me, simply dance! Your mother is judging me."

Loki sighed, and placed a hand on her waist. "That is nothing special," he said, flexing his fingers, "I am judged by her all the time." Astrid shuddered slightly from the contact- was he always so cold? The appendage seemed to burn through her dress, and her face colored with embarrassment, the tomato red of her face clashing horribly with her cobalt-blue dress, veined with white.

"Something wrong?" Loki asked in a low, toneless murmur as they waltzed between the others, Sif catching Astrid's eye and miming death.

"Simply concentrating. Watch out for my feet," she hissed, sidestepping quickly.

Loki snorted. "If anything, it should be you watching your feet, Astrid." To iterate, he spun her quickly, setting her off balance and tripping over the hem of her dress. Fandral let out a snort of laughter from where he danced with Sif.

With irritation, she stepped hard on his toes with her heel as he spun her, the heeled shoes ensuring a hiss from his part. He scowled at her as she met his gaze with equal distaste

Loki turned himself to the right, preparing to lead her, but Astrid had other plans. In the same motion, she swung around to the left, stronger than him, guaranteeing that the prince trip over his own feet and only her yanking him up saving him from a face-plant in the marble floor.

She smiled sweetly at him as the music swelled to a close.

"That... was not funny," Loki said through gritted teeth. Astrid merely shrugged her shoulders, and went over to where Sif was berating Fandral for letting his hands drift south during the dance. Some things never changed. Shooting Loki a dark glare, Astrid went to Thor to ask to be his partner for the next dance.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**A/N:** Aw... they're growing up! Warning... next chapter is dark... not super-dark, but it should be relatively interesting to see what you guys think. Please review!


	10. Chapter 10: Of Boredom and Ravens

**A/N:** Please disregard my last author's note. I've shuffled my chapters around, so you can basically be expecting the dark chapter to come up... later. It will eventually, though. Thanks for reading, and please review. Guys, I can see my traffic stats. I know you're there.

**~:~:~**

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night,  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life,  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
All your life,  
You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

_Blackbird fly, blackbird fly  
Into the light of the dark black night_

~ The Beatles, _Blackbird_

**Chapter 10: Of Boredom and Ravens**

"It was amazing!" gushed Clatia, a young maid who was braiding Astrid's auburn hair. "He took me to the party out in the forest, and we danced to the sound of Alfheimr fiddles, and we-" The girl broke off, and Astrid could hear her give an embarrassed laugh.

"And then you what?" she asked, glancing at the red faced maid's reflection in the vanity. "You took his soul?" There was only slight sarcasm in her voice.

Clatia blinked. "Nothing so intense, milady. He..." the girl sighed, and clasped her arms to her chest. "He kissed me!"

Astrid frowned. "Is that all?"

Clatia was jerked from her reverie, and turned to Astrid in shock. "My lady," the girl murmured. "Surely you-" Understanding blossomed across Clatia's features. "Oh, have you never been kissed, milady?"

Astrid's complexion changed from pale to the deepest red. She made a quiet sound of agreement at the back of her throat, but did not meet Clatia's imploring gaze.

"Oh, but it is the most glorious feeling!" cried Clatia. "Two minds working as one in a timeless admittance of passion and love!"

Astrid furrowed her brow. "I always took it as a sharing of saliva. Highly unsanitary."

Clatia sighed. "Forgive me, milady. But you have never been kissed. And so you shall not know."

~:~:~:~

The lessons had become ever more intense over the months. Astrid's sixteenth name day came and passed like it was nothing. She was considered a lady now, and was all the more spiteful for it.

The parties were not lacking either. Astrid woke every morning with the sun on her face to a low-seated, not-too unpleasant buzz in the pit of her stomach from the mead she had consumed every night. Nearly every night she drifted among small groups of people chatting and smiling from behind masks. With a grudging tolerance, she began to like to them - the people, the dances, the food; it was all exciting.

Astrid slipped from behind the shade of a pillar on the arm of some Asgardian gentlemen's son, a red-haired, bright-eyed boy with a quiet smile. He was her escort for the evening, but to be quite honest, he was boring. Certainly, he was handsome enough. But he was silent. And that made him boring.

Astrid herself was dressed in a long, slender velvet blue dress that well befitted her sixteen-year old body. Her

The red-head turned to face her and held out his hand as they walked into the centre of the dancers. "Would you...?"

She sighed inwardly, and plastered a bright smile on her face. "Of course. It would be a pleasure." Astrid took his hand and they swayed to the music.

She attempted to make light conversation, with little to no response. The tall boy was constantly looking over the top of her auburn head. Astrid glared at him as her peered over her for the fourth time.

"Graiy?" she asked sweetly, her voice laced with honey. His blue eyes snapped down to meet her dangerous hazel ones.

"Mmm?"

"If the girl in the bright red dress is so much more attractive than I am, please just say so and be done with it."

Graiy flushed, red rushing from his neck to the roots of his ginger hair. "I - I - my apologies... Lady Astrid-"

"Mmm," she said, raising an eyebrow. "You're boring me, Graiy. Please, go talk to Amora. Perhaps she will be more interested by you. Oh! And as a bonus, she has no scar ripping across her face." Astrid spun the stuttering boy gracefully, pushing him away from her in the direction of the petite Amora, dressed in a curve-hugging ruby dress.

_It looks like someone's cut themselves and bled over it, _Astrid thought darkly, striding to the side of the room where the other wallflowers resided, viciously grabbing a glass of mead from the hands of a servingman that she passed. She downed it in one angry gulp, and shoved the empty glass into the waiting arms of another servingman, who stumbled back from the force.

She felt a light tap on her shoulder. Astrid turned to see the Fandral cynically looking at her, arms crossed.

"It has been less than ten minutes, and you have already managed to frighten off your escort," he said, with an undertone of fake exasperation.

She shrugged. "He was boring. And I'm bored."

Fandral leaned forwards, a glint in his eyes. "Want to do something exciting?" He raised both eyebrows meaningfully.

Astrid shoved him in the chest, hands catching on his golden dress-armor. "You are _too_ much, Fandral!" she said, playing along. "Unfortunately, my schedule is full."

"With what?"

"With being bored." She grabbed both of his hands and pulled him into the crowd of dancers, ignoring the jealous sighs of the other wallflowers behind her. "What a trophy you make, Fandral," she remarked, "that you make women sigh in ecstasy every time they set eyes on you."

He whirled her in a circle, moving with the grace of a practiced dancer. Astrid felt clumsy in comparison, and suddenly regretted all the times she had scorned dancing in favor of hunting.

The music swelled and slowed to a halt. Astrid lifted her hand off of Fandral's shoulder and curtsied over-dramatically, splaying out her feet clownishly. Fandral smirked to let her know she was still just a little girl in a big girl's dress-up clothes, and moved away gracefully away to find a partner for the next dance - he would have no problem.

Astrid ran her hands over her hair, suddenly self-conscious. She felt eyes on her, and although she didn't know who they belonged to, she rolled her eyes and huffed her now-silky bangs out of her eyes, where they had fallen like a brown curtain. Her hair was longer now, nearly to the bottom of her shoulders, and was pulled back into a very hasty braid.

She turned and walked to the other side of the large ballroom, feeling more relaxed after her dance with Fandral. She smiled sweetly at two girls slightly older than her, who were both looking daggers at her; Fandral was much in demand since he had grown the beginnings of a golden beard and had shot up in height.

One of the two girls moved as if to approach her, a question posed on her porcelain face. Astrid faced away from her, desperately casting about for Sif or Volstagg to use as a distraction - she _hated _talking to the ladies'-in-waiting daughters.

She saw an exit close to her, covered by thin purple curtains, flapping gently in the breeze coming from outside - it was clearly the entrance to some sort of balcony. Astrid thanked anyone who was listening and slipped quietly through the doorway.

It let out to a semi-circular slab of marble, ringed by a silver bannister. The night was cold, but pleasantly so, and she stood still for a moment, enjoying the feel of the wind on her flushed skin. Asgard's two moons shone, dull but huge, from the sky, and numerous stars showed their faces from among the cobalt clouds. Not a spectacular night, but a pretty one nonetheless. Astrid approached the balcony and leaned against it, reveling in the silence.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you to knock before you enter a room?"

The voice made her jump, and swear savagely. She turned and met the cold stare of the boy across the balcony, half-shrouded by the shade of the night. "Frankly, my prince, no."

"And why not?" Loki emerged fully from the shadows, coldly regarding her.

She glared back, challenging his emerald gaze. "Much of my life has been spent at the palace here. Rarely do I see my family, and I'm quite happy to keep it that way."

"Why?" He was infuriating.

She turned her back on him. "I am not my mother's favorite person, nor am I my sisters'."

"How many?"

"Excuse me?"

"How many sisters do you have?" he asked, his face a perfect mask - she wasn't sure if he was asking sincerely or not. Most likely he was bored.

"Nine by Ran, my mother, and me, although knowing my father, in all likelihood a lot more - _why am I telling you this?" _Astrid interrupted herself suddenly. "I'm sure you have more trivial topics to immerse yourself in than the touchy subject of my family tree." She sneered deliberately, and was slightly disappointed when he didn't react in the slightest.

Without answering her, the young prince turned and reached into a pocket sown into the fabric of his emerald-and-silver dress-armor, pulling out a handful of black breadcrumbs.  
Astrid arched a well-defined eyebrow. Even with his back to her, he was alert and listening to everything around him.

And Loki had grown maddeningly, as all of them had done in the past few decades. He was taller than her, and his black hair had grown to slightly below his ears. And although Astrid preferred lighter-haired, lighter-haired men, she had to admit, however grudgingly, that Loki had cultivated a small amount of attractiveness. However, a boy who spent his time in the library and not out in the training-yards or in the forest was of no interest to her. And besides, they abhorred each other, and each found comfort in the hating of the other - it had grown to be an entertainment, trying to anger the other as much as possible and then laughing as they tripped up in fury.

Loki cast the crumbs out in front of him, and briefly Astrid wondered if he was performing magyk, and her interest was momentarily caught, but she snorted as a small flock of perhaps five ravens fluttered down from nowhere and pecked at the crumbs.

"Friends of yours?" she asked mockingly, but jerked away in surprise as the biggest of the birds shot up and landed gently on Loki's shoulders. "_Good _friends?"

"You might say that," Loki intoned, a smirk spreading slowly across his features. He reached up a hand and slowly stroked the raven's ebony head. It cawed and took off, swooping away, with its brothers tailing after it.

"I thought ravens were day birds."

"They are no ordinary ravens."

"_Clearly_." The word held so much more meaning than what she had said out loud. _Clearly they're not ordinary, otherwise they would not be 'your friends'._

There was a moment of silence, awkward, but punctuated by Astrid's furious scowls and Loki's refusal to meet her eyes or even turn around.

They might have stayed that way, locked in a petty battle of 'who-can-out-wait-who' when a cry and a crash of furniture and bodies made both of them flinch.

"What was that?" Loki asked quietly, not sounding very concerned.

"I don't know about you" - she cast a quick glance at him - "but I'm not waiting out here for someone to come and get me." With that, she darted inside, leaving the dark prince alone on the balcony.

The bright amber lights of the ballroom hurt her eyes for a moment, but she quickly adjusted and took in the situation around her - calm chaos, if such a thing exists.

People milled around, perhaps slightly more hurried before, exchanging hushed glances and whispers, with the occasional outcry. Astrid glanced around and quickly located Volstagg, towering above most of the others, a prominent red beard already forming on his strong chin.

"Volstagg," she hissed as she elbowed her way through the molasses-thick crowd, "would you be so kind as to inform me as to what's going on?"

Grinning with a certain kind of mad glint in his eye, he pointed to the centre of the room, which was clear of any Asgardians, save three - Odin, Thor and a slight, slender guard who looked like he belonged on kitchen duty as opposed to guarding the city.

"We've had a rather _unfortunate _interruption," he said, stressing the word as though it meant the complete opposite. "Follow me." He began mowing a path through the roused dancers, Astrid striding behind him. They reached Thor, who had already been joined by Sif and Hogun, with Fandral attempting to shake off a lovestruck woman a few hart-lengths behind them.

"Thor - I was outside - what has happened?" Astrid grabbed the crown prince's arm to gain his attention, which was focused wholly on the shuddering, pale-faced man in front of him.

The man gestured in a northern direction wildly. "A sn-snake... l-l-largest I-I've ever s-seen. A l-l...l-lindworm, for s-sure. A-attacked u-us... it-it-it's gone now... but-but what... it i-it c-comes b-back?"

Astrid's eyes widened, and she met Hogun's startled stare. They were both thinking the same thing. Unconsciously, her hand crept up to touch her scar, feeling an overwhelming urge to both scream in anger and shout in joy.

Odin was quicker to react than any of them, though. He turned the guard over to a servingman, who escorted him out of the room quietly. He turned to the expectant people in the room and made a few quick hand motions, and immediately a dozen well-built men detached themselves from the others and followed the king swiftly out of the room.

Astrid threw a pointed glance at Thor, and he beckoned the Warriors Three and the two women to the front of the room, where the small orchestra had just begun to play again. People were dancing again, and Astrid almost tripped up a wiry golden-haired man that she didn't have time to apologize to before he whisked himself off once more.

"Well?" Thor asked them all.

"We go!" Astrid said under her breath. As one, the other five faced her, with varying degrees of emotion painted across their faces.

"Let's go!" she repeated. "If we can track the worm before Odin does, then I can indulge in a bit of revenge and the rest of you - well, aren't you all stultified? I mean, really, when was the last time we went out hunting? And for a decent sized monster like this one?"

There was a short silence, punctuated by the strumming of lutes and the laughing of men and women who had moved back into the dancing and talking as though the king hadn't just left to dispose of a giant snake.

Sif looked as though she was mulling it over, and grinned suddenly. "I'm in for it now - I _ am _tired of being a lady. There's no fun whatsoever. And you and I" - she indicated Astrid and herself - "will be betrothed all too soon. And that could be to anyone!"

Astrid smiled. Sif would have her way eventually. "And the rest of you?" she inquired under her breath. "Because if you don't go, I'm going to ride out there and smash the worm to bits myself."

Fandral chuckled and clapped a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off casually. "We all know you would, Astrid. However, I suppose I must come along, to supervise. Can't have a child who's only a few thousand years old saving the realm."

"I am sixteen by Midgardian standards!" she protested, taking the bait too easily. Her ears turned red and she huffed. "So you're coming."

"Of course!"

Volstagg and Hogun nodded their agreement - the three of them seemed to be inseperable. Thor grinned after a moment, his blue eyes lighting up.

"I'm not going to be left out! Let us go!"

Loki drifted up, and followed them silently out of the room, coming with them without needing to ask.


	11. Chapter 11: Of Trails and Deja Vu

**Chapter 11: Of Trails and Deja Vu**

"Do you think, perhaps, Odin will notice our disappearance?" Hogun asked, staring noncommittally at the flames of the small fire flickering, holding its own against the frosted morning. He lifted a boot and smothered the flames quickly.

A cold breath of wind rolled itself into their makeshift campsite, and Astrid shivered. "Of course he will. But he'll know exactly where we've gone."

"And if he and his men find and kill the worm first?"

"Nonsense. You're the best tracker in all of Asgard, and everyone here knows it." Volstagg pounded his silent friend on the back with a grin on his face, thoroughly insulated against the dawn's chill with layers upon layers of fur wrapped around his substantial body.

"And yet it's been two days, and we are no closer to finding that damned snake," Sif remarked dryly, rubbing a stone slowly up and down a deadly-looking knife.

Astrid turned away and pretended to be playing with her horse's girth to hide her scowl of impatience. It was taking far longer than she had expected to find the worm and smash it to bits.

"So we haven't found it yet. There are signs," Thor stated, displaying an unusual amount of forbearance, "that it has been through this clearing."

The glade they now rested in was spacious and grassy, with aspens waving their branches gracefully all around. It was beautiful, but beautiful was not something Astrid was looking for. She was looking for something she could kill. Preferably messily.

The grass was flattened out in the centre, instantly showing them the size of the worm (unbelievably _small_ for its species) and leaving a trail that a blind man could follow. The six of them had tracked it, all secretly please with the simplicity of their mission. But at the end of the dell the scent went cold. There was nothing; not a breath of wind, a broken branch or even a turned-over leaf. It was as though the snake had disappeared into thin air.

"Perhaps we should just abandon the hunt?" Loki suggested, tilting his head a quarter-fraction up from where he was studying the trail.

Astrid rounded on him with a irritated look. "No. We have come this far, we must just... think of something else," she finished lamely.

Thor looked thoughtful. "Perhaps we should separate - we'd cover more ground that way," he explained when he saw the others' doubtful faces.

"I suppose... it might work," Fandral commented slowly. "The worm is small enough that two of us could finish it easily."

"Volstagg, you, Fandral and Hogun go north. Lyndworms like the cold. Perhaps it has made its nest towards the mountains," Thor instructed them bossily, waving a hand in a northerly direction.

The three nodded in unison and walked to ready their horses, standing patiently in a row at the end of the clearing.

"And that leaves the four of us, yes?" Astrid asked, turning to mount her chestnut horse.

"No." Thor grinned. "I said that two of us could kill it."

"Ah. So Lady Sif and I, and you and your brother?"

"I think it might be more effective if I went with Thor," Sif said, winking at Astrid's crestfallen expression. "After all, he and I are far more used to sparring with each other, and, well... you and Loki _are_ used to fighting with each other. We'll take the west, you go east."

Astrid glowered, but instead of protesting, mounted her horse and spurred him into a gallop towards the east, not waiting for Loki to catch up.

**~:~:~:~**

"Would you hurry up?" she snapped.

"It takes time!" he snapped back, not looking at her. "It takes time, to cast a tracking spell."

"I think you're just making the whole idea of 'tracking spells' up," Astrid grumbled. "I've never heard of them."

"That does not mean they do not exist, Lady Astrid," Loki commented dryly, humoring her and rolling his eyes.

They stood on the edge of a cliff. The wind pushed against her back, whipping her dark blue cloak about her ankles. Astrid looked thoughtfully at the drop below her, wondering if she could survive the fall. The princes might be able to, and Odin definitely would, but an ordinary Asgardian might break a bone or five. Still, the murky river swirling far below her looked far from inviting. She took a step back from the craggy, precarious cliffs and kicked a small stone off the edge, watching its quick journey down to the bottom. She was too high up to witness the small splash it made.

Loki's black garments moved slightly as he turned back to her, a mask drawn onto his expressionless features. "It's nearby," was all he said.

She lowered her eyebrows. "Oh. Well, that _is _very informative." Astrid looked around, spreading her arms out for effect. "Tell me, just where is 'nearby'? There are hardly any trees for miles!" They had left the forests behind a while ago.

"Nearby. Nearby is..." Loki glanced to his right calmly. "Nearby is in the cave."

Astrid felt herself pale slightly as she saw the cave he was pointing at - across the ravine. "You cannot be serious."

"Are you really asking _me_ that?" Loki raised an eyebrow calmly and looked at her. She flushed and scowled at her boots, scuffing one of the toes into the ground.

He rolled his eyes. "Come." Taking the lead, he disappeared suddenly and reappeared on the other side of the substantial drop. Loki waved to her dryly.

Astrid crossed her arms, huffed and waited.

He sighed and waved his hand, and she appeared next to him. Astrid nodded her thanks curtly and strode off in the direction of the cave, tightening the hook sword clasped about her waist. It wasn't hers, per say, but rather _borrowed _from the training yard.

"Should we wait for the others?" Loki asked, standing still behind her.

Astrid continued her brisk pace without turning around. "Why? Fandral said two of us could finish it easily. So let's finish it."

Loki followed her to the mouth of the cave silently, probably pulling a face at her turned back.

What stretched in front of them was a gaping, black maw, but the cave was little more than a giant pile of boulders slumped together. Astrid coughed quietly, trying to disguise a choke.

Loki strolled past her casually, smirked and turned to her mockingly. "Scared, Astrid?"

"Certainly not," she replied indignantly. "Now, are you going to stand around all day?"

"Certainly not." He sauntered into the darkness.

Astrid made to follow him, but heard a grunt of pain from within the cave and was promptly hit by a heavy object that came flying out of it.

She landed on her back several feet away. Sucking in a breath of air, she jumped to her feet and drew her sword.

Loki struggled to his knees in front of her. He had been 'the object' that had hit her.

"What? What happened?" she hissed, her voice a mere whisper.

"We're... going to be needing more than - than two people... to take this - one down," he gasped, trying to catch his breath, not taking his eyes off the cave.

Astrid followed his gaze and her mouth fell open, a strange sense of _deja vu_ creeping over her. She took a breath to try and say something, anything, but nothing came out.

A gargantuan beast slithered silently out of the darkness, ruby red tongue flickering in and out, tasting the air. It towered above her, its head nearly three times the size of her body. Its onyx scales glittered in the sun rays that still poked out from behind the gathering clouds, looking nearly purple. Its green eyes locked onto Astrid's, and she could almost read its mind.

_Lunch._

"It figures," she muttered. Sweeping her gaze from left to right, she darted around Loki and, before the beast could react, dug her sword into its left eye. The only problem then was that she couldn't pull it out again. The worm reared up, giving an earth-shattering roar, black-and-red blood spurting out of its wound and taking her sword with it.

"A little help here?" she asked furiously, glaring at Loki, who had watched the whole spectacle calmly, hands in his pockets.

He gave her a half-smirk and his lips moved silently in some sort of incantation. The worm's head was brought back down to the ground, shuddering. Astrid pulled out her hook sword swiftly, only to be thrown across the side of the ravine when the worm's head slammed into her. She landed on her back for the second time, her own blood trickling into her eyes, and lay there for a second, thinking that she deserved a few seconds' rest, only to see the worm right in front of her once again, ivory fangs bared.

Words that would have curdled milk flashed through Astrid's mind and she rolled to the left just as the worm struck the ground, right where she had been a millisecond before. Breathing an internal sigh of relief, she glanced at Loki, who was walking towards the worm.

_Walking? He's walking?!_

He scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot loudly, like she had done only a few minutes earlier, and the worm, momentarily distracted, swung its head around to look at the noise.

_It has to be young, then, and inexperienced, _Astrid thought, _otherwise it wouldn't make such a mistake. But it's huge. _And she drove the tip of her sword into the snake's right eye. It screamed and thrashed away, but not before Astrid had pulled her sword out again and was rewarded in a shower of black-and-red gunk for her efforts.

Yes. _Deja vu_, indeed.

The young snake froze, knowing that it was now sightless. Its tongue flickered out again, its chest heaving with what was probably a mixture of fear, fury and bewilderment. Astrid nearly felt sorry for it. Then a bead of sweat ran over her scar and she forgot her compassion. She had more important things to feel. Like outrage, for example, at what Loki was doing.

He stood, perfectly still, right on the edge of the ravine. He was whistling. _Whistling._ Like he _wanted _to be killed. The worm slowly turned towards the prince, sliding towards him with a quiet conclusiveness that signified death.

"Loki," Astrid snapped. "What are you doing?"

He ignored her, save for a small, smug smile that crossed his face. The snake, now right in front of him, lunged and grabbed him, piercing him through with both fangs. It realized a little too late that there was no ground underneath it, and, before it could react, slipped off the edge, its own huge weight pulling it down, plummeting to the river far below. A beast could not survive a fall such as that, even a worm of that size.

Astrid sprinted to the edge of the cliff, screaming. _"Loki!" _

There was no movement below, save for the still-roaring river. The world pulsed before her, taking on a muted quality. She screamed again, looking for him. _"Loki!"_

"Yes?"

She whirled, sword out. Loki stood behind her, unruffled. "Can I help you, Lady Astrid?"

Astrid screamed again, but not out of fear. This time it was out of fury. She was _so _tempted to kill him, herself.

"Scared of my death, perhaps?" he asked, a smooth grin flickering over his face.

"Scared only of what I might have to tell your father," she replied tartly, having regained herself.

"I learned recently to copy myself," he told her thoughtfully, approaching the cliff to look for his handiwork. "It has come in handy in battle."

"What a coincidence," Astrid said sharply. "I learned recently not to care. It has come in handy in ignoring you."

"So full of childish bitterness," he mocked her, clicking his tongue.

"So full of childish arrogance," she mimicked, hands on her hips.

Loki looked as though he wanted to say something, but instead just shook his head and disappeared, appearing on the other side of the ravine, walking to where their horses stood.

Astrid threw her hands up in the air, annoyed. "And me?"

He disregarded her completely, untying _both _their horses, giving her chestnut stallion a slamp on the rump, so that he bucked, neighed loudly and cantered off. He mounted his own black horse and saluted Astrid, standing on the other side of the ravine.

"Oh, that is just _amazing_," she yelled, knowing he probably couldn't hear her. "What am I supposed to do now?"

There was a crack of thunder, and the skies opened. Astrid was soaked instantly. Her shoulders slumped.

Over on the other side of the cliffs, Loki sneered at her. She picked up a rock, roughly the size of her fist, and launched it at him. Of course, it missed.

Loki shrugged. "It's the thought that counts."

Astrid heard that loud and clear, and screeched more unintelligible words across the gap between them.

Ignoring her with the skill of a practiced expert, the prince flicked his black cloak over his horse's saddle and trotted off. Astrid, wet hair flopping in her eyes, growled and began to run after him, looking for a way over.

Overhead, thunder rumbled and lightning split the storm-filled skies.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**A/N:** Hope you guys liked this chapter. Couldn't resist bringing in another lindworm. Next chapter... should... have a little bit of a twist to it, but knowing my liking for mixing chapters around, it may be the next next chapter... or the next next chapter. But it will be here! Eventually. Also, couldn't quite find song lyrics to suit this chapter. I just don't think any songs have been written about fighting giant snakes... or being covered in gooey snake slime... etcetera, a sadder note... around 2800 views? That's crazy (for me), and only a couple of you guys reviewed? I'm gonna go cry in a corner now (muhahaha... guilt trip). Special thanks to those who have reviewed - I wuv you guys. Starcrier, jemlou, algie888, BaconChan, ForeverisGone13, Rikka-sama, Cacow, derpfacedapperson; you're awesome! Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	12. Chapter 12: Of Sapphire and Betrayal

**Chapter 12: Of Sapphire and Betrayal**

_I looked away_  
_Then I look back at you_  
_You try to say_  
_The things that you can't undo_  
_If I had my way_  
_I'd never get over you_  
_Today's the day_  
_I pray that we make it through_

_Make it through the fall_  
_Make it through it all_

_~:~:~_

The young noble in deep vermillion was watching her, his face a casual smile. Astrid turned to face him, frowning slightly at the expression on his face. She glanced down at her attire- a simply, modest, riding habit in the color of sea-blue. Perfectly acceptable. So why was he staring at her like that?

"Is something wrong?" she asked loudly, slightly flatted by his gaze, but nevertheless rather annoyed. "Is it the dress?"

"No, no," the boy said quickly. "No, nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong at all."

"Hmm. Good," she huffed, slightly vexed, and moved to lead the chestnut stallion out of his stall. After a beat, she turned. His sapphire blue eyes were still on her.

"If nothing is wrong, then what warrants your staring at me?" It was a barbed challenge - she wasn't sure she liked the way he was looking at her.

"I'm a male," was his only defense, and Astrid's face colored. Were all minor nobles this uncouth, or was it just him?

"What is your name, _male_?" she asked sharply. She was not aware that she was flirting with him.

"Rallon. And you must be Astrid," he said, leaning against a stone wall. Rallon was well-known about the palace - popular, but for being a boy of many women - even worse then Fandral. Every week there was another goddess on his arm. Sometimes two. And the girls just couldn't get enough of him. Despite herself, she felt flattered by his attention and Astrid's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Well, they said Astrid was a girl with beautiful eyes, hair like autumn itself and skin as radiant as the moon." No mention of her scar, but Astrid's hand shot up to touch it anyway, suddenly blindingly self-conscious. Rallon drew closer to her, toying with a strand of his dark brown hair. "Did I mention her voice? Like molten velvet."

Astrid let out a nervous giggle - _where did that come from? -_ and jerked away from him. "I must get to my riding," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

"I'm not stopping you."

"Will you be around the palace?" she asked, and winced at how desperate her voice sounded. Rallon chuckled, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, letting his lips linger over them.

"I'm counting on it... beautiful."

She tilted her head to the side, gave the boy a small smile and led the stallion out, vaulting onto his back and cantering away. She made sure she was far away before letting the soft, rather embarrassing squeal of joy out of her mouth. The stallion flicked his ears as though to say _Really? _but made no comment.

Astrid had a slight, somewhat dreamy smile on her face for the rest of the day. _Beautiful._

_~:~:~:~:~_

One the twentieth of night of summer was to be the coming out for all the younglings of the Asgardian court. It was to be her, Loki, Amora, Rallon and a number of other sons and daughters of minor nobles. This was the day that they would be inducted into stately life, the day that they were truly adults. She waited amongst the gold curtains, the first to be there. Astrid tugged nervously at the material of her dress, ensuring it was fitted perfectly. The colour was a deep red, clinging to her in places that she wished it did not cling to. Her hair had been pinned up as well, baring her shoulders and neck. Clatia had truly gone all-out on this ensemble.

"Calm down," murmured Rallon, appearing at her shoulder and cutting a striking figure in ochre and crimson. "You look wonderful."

Astrid flinched at his sudden appearance, but smiled at him wanly, nodding her thanks, and turned at the sound of footsteps. Loki emerged, his armour a startling green and an odd helmet upon his head. Despite herself, Astrid could not help but silently admit the armor suited him well - and grin at the somewhat comical headpiece. She was sure he would grow into it, but for now...

"What is _that_?" asked Astrid, before she could check herself. Loki winced, and pulled the horned headdress off.

"A gift from Father. Thor says it makes me look not unlike a cow."

"Fitting," mused Astrid, and some of the other young Asgardians behind her tittered. Loki drew his lips into a thin line, his eyebrows coming together in irritation.

"Are we waiting on Amora?" he asked instead, turning towards the door. The young prince was rather fond of the beautiful young woman with whom he had magic lessons - fonder of her than he was of Astrid, anyways.

"Not for much longer," came the enchantress' smooth voice, like liquid honey to her ears. The girl's mane of nearly-black hair had been intricately braided, and she wore a dress of deepest purple, held up only by a chain across her neck. Loki's eyes were locked to her in an instant, and Astrid tensed in jealousy - of Amora's beauty, of course.

"Well, let us go in," Rallon said, and pushed the gold curtain open for all four of them to pass through, into the golden light and the whirl of the celebration.

~:~:~:~:~

The night passed in a blur for Astrid, and she soon found herself lightheaded from all the attention - and the alcohol. She begged to be allowed some air, and Thor directed her to a secret alcove that he sometimes used when he needed to get away from the crowds. She hitched her dress up around her ankles and climbed through the small opening that let out onto a white marble balcony, darkened by the night. The summer wind that whipped through the window was bracing against her face, but not unwelcome. She leaned over the balcony, glancing now and then at the late-night lights of Asgard.

"I thought I'd find you here."

"Hello, Rallon." Astrid smiled, but suddenly frowned at the expression on his face. He was staring at her hard. She glanced down at her dress, and frowned. "Is something the matter?"

"No," he said quietly, drawing nearer to her, his movements lithe and predatory. A dark shadow passed across his face. "No, everything is perfect."

Astrid forced a shaky smile onto her face, moving away from him slowly. Something was wrong, and she had a horrible feeling she knew what it was. His eyes were dark, and she could barely see the light sapphire color she had so loved just a few weeks beforehand. Her back bumped against the wall, and Rallon braced his arms either side of her head.

"That dress," he hissed, leaning in towards her, and Astrid gasped, suddenly trying to pull away from him. "That red. _My _red. I've been wanting to do this the second I saw you in that dress."

Astrid cut off her own gasp with a snarl of surprise, and pushed him away from her, as hard as she could.

Off balance, he stumbled back, a surprised look on his face. Then he smirked and came at her again, hands out and reaching for her face.

_Fight!_ her mind screamed at her. Her body didn't respond.

Astrid had many expectations for her first kiss. She wanted it to be romantic, she wanted it to be sweet and beautiful, and a promise. It was meant to make her feel safe and dangerous and loved and valued all at once, whilst encased in his arms. But Rallon's face hit hers like a bird of prey attacking a prey animal. His mouth slammed into her cheek.

Rallon's lips, rough and demanding, crushed her dream of a sweet kiss. He forced himself up against her, and she could feel his nails digging crescents into her wrists, lips assaulting her. It was wet. Was she crying? The salt splayed across her tongue, and she supposed that, yes. She was crying.

Astrid twisted her right hand out of his, and reached out, groping for the tiny dagger she had placed in a small pocket on the inside of her corset. Her hand closed over the cold metal and she yanked it out, aiming to stab him in the arm. She swiped, and Rallon moved his arm out of the way just in time. She roared out, hoping desperately to attract attention, and swiped again, her movements clumsy, as though she had never wielded a knife before. Rallon smiled at her, and with his free hand grabbed her elbow and wrenched her hand so hard that she dropped the knife and cried out in pain. She pulled her arm away and wound back, to bring her closed fist up against his chin. His head snapped up and he reeled backwards, clutching at his jaw.

Astrid was breathing quickly now, scared. She tried to calm herself down and ready herself for the next punch. But she couldn't control her thoughts, which were dancing in a frenzy around her head, betrayal and confusion and terror all mashing itself together in one tornado of horrible emotion.

Rallon wiped at his bleeding mouth, and smirked in an ugly way. "My lady, you and your little friends are not the only ones who can fight." He pinned her once-free hand against the wall.

Astrid struggled like a trapped wildcat, but he was stronger than her - so much stronger. She screeched in anger, pulling away from him, tugging her wrists frantically, to no avail.

_"Help!"_ she screamed, jerking her head and thrashing her legs in an attempt to kick him somewhere, anywhere. "Please! Somebody - _anybody!" _But Thor had been right when he had said the alcove was secret - no one came to her rescue.

"Don't scream," he hissed, gripping her jaw tightly and slamming her head against the wall so hard that her teeth clamped down on her tongue. Blood filled her mouth. In sudden silence, his hands travelled down the bodice of her dress as she writhed in fear and pain and anger.

She felt bloated and helpless - once, she would have laughed at the thought of someone being able to overpower her, but Rallon had done it all too easily.

Suddenly, the assault on her body was gone, and there was a resounding crash. Looking up, she saw that someone had discovered her, and discarded Rallon to the other end of the room. She could see Thor in the dim light, throwing punch after punch at Rallon so that the older boy flailed and screamed.

She was pressed into someone's arms, and she shrieked, jerking away. _Not again, not again, not again! _The person pressed her face close to their chest, and Astrid's tears soaked through the material. She could smell sandalwood, parchment and mint.

"It's alright," said the smooth voice, cradling her to his chest. "I've got you. I've got you."

Astrid cried out in anger and fear and buried her head deep into Loki's chest, sobs wracking her frame as the Thor's screams of anger resounded behind her.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**A/N: Little bit of a more 'scary' chapter there. Lovely. I intend this to be a filler chapter, and I thought Astrid could use some excitement in her life. My half-Beta (algie888, meaning that she sometimes helps with some chapters) wrote this chapter and I edited the heck out of it - it was originally darker. Thanks to her, and BaconChan for the advice on toning this one down before I uploaded it.**

**Thanks to reviewers and favoriters and followers, and I've decided to turn over a new leaf and start sending PMs to reviewers to thank them personally. Song at the beginning is 'Fall to Pieces' by Avril Lavigne.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	13. Chapter 13: Of Family and Ceremonies

**Chapter 13: Of Family and Ceremonies**

_~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~_

_My eyes are blind, but I can see _  
_The snowflakes glisten on the tree _  
_The sun no longer sets me free _  
_I feel there's no place freezing me _

_Let the winter sunshine on _  
_Let me feel the frost of dawn _  
_Fill my dreams with flakes of snow _  
_Soon I'll feel the chilling go _

_Don't you think I know what I'm doing _  
_Don't tell me that it's doing me wrong _  
_You're the one who's really a loser _  
_This is where I feel I belong._

___~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~_

Clatia smoothed back Astrid's hair, a grin practically splitting her face in half."Tonight is the night!" she trilled. "And yet you seem so calm, m'lady."

"What is there to be excited about?" Astrid asked in a dull voice, staring herself down in the mirror. Clatia was twisting her now-long auburn hair down her back into a thick braid. A faint look of haughtiness crossed her face. "Well?"

Clatia's expression fell, just a little. "Well, I thought perhaps you might be excited about... well, receiving your title. M'lady," she added, to be polite.

"Oh, was that tonight?" Astrid stood carelessly, just as Clatia wound a colored ribbon around the bottom of her braid. She glanced out the window, and allowed a small smile to cross her face. "It's snowing. We will have a beautiful morning tomorrow. Winter is beautiful, don't you think?" In all honesty, she said this to distract Clatia.

Clatia nodded, and stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Forgive me for saying so, m'lady, but I would have thought that you might have been more enthusiastic, perhaps even eager, to receive your title and officially be recognized as one of the members of court."

Astrid smirked slightly. "You make it sound so grand, Clatia." She smoothed down an almost non-existent wrinkle in her plum-colored dress. It was elegant and sleek, with a wide silver armband encircling both of her wrists, keeping the material from spilling over onto her hands. "I've been around many,_ many_ members of court. Trust me when I tell you most of them are dreadful bores. And some of them smell."

Clatia moved to attach a small, argent, butterfly-shaped hairpiece to Astrid's braid. She clicked her tongue in mild disagreement. "I'm sure you've seen much, m'lady. But there will certainly be more than enough young men there tonight to fancy, won't there?"

A brief flash of a red dress and sapphire eyes made Astrid freeze. She shook the memory off, trying in vain to remind herself that Rallon had been gone for many years now. She had never bothered to ask after him, and was satisfied with the general rumor that he had been sent to a post on the far reaches of Asgard, to scout for possible attacks that were unlikely to come.

"Yes," she managed to say at last. "Yes, I'm sure there will be plenty of... handsome boys."

"And what about the crown prince himself, then? Perhaps he might be a viable option for a lady of your standing." Clatia gave a small smile and grabbed the brocade over-corset lying in front of Astrid's large vanity mirror.

"Certainly not," Astrid snorted, then remembered that she was, by definition, a lady - even if she resented that fact. "No, I'm sure Lady Sif would have my head. I suspect she fancies Thor. Besides, Thor is not... my type."

"Ooh," Clatia murmured, wrapping the black-and-violet over-corset around her charge's waist. "Then what is, exactly, 'your type'?"

"None of your business, Clatia," Astrid snapped. She cleared her throat and continued, "To be perfectly honest, the only thing I'm looking forward to tonight is the removal of my... scar upon completion of the ceremony."

"Oh?" Clatia tugged on the strings of the corset, and Astrid gasped as the material threatened to cut off her breathing. "When the ceremony is finished, previous blemishes will be removed, physical and mental."

Astrid _hrrmp_ed with vague approval. "You've been reading, Clatia?"

"Only what my father puts in front of me," the handmaid said with a guilty expression. "I prefer not to read if I can avoid."

"You and me both," Astrid muttered, adjusting on of her armbands with a habit-induced tweak. She looked away, so as not to meet Clatia's imploring gaze. "And speaking of fathers..." The last few words were almost too quiet to catch. Almost.

Clatia's head shot up - the young woman was an insufferable gossip. "Oh, _yes," _she said, in a somewhat know-it-all tone. "I had heard that your father would be attending, m'lady."

"And _won't_ it be fun." Astrid allowed a soft, scornful laugh to escape her lips. "On a different note, how much time have we left?"

Clatia paused for a moment, thinking. "Enough to just make it to the ball, slightly behind schedule, though, m'lady."

"Good. I was hoping to be fashionably late." Astrid slipped towards the door, but paused as her partially-gloved hand rested on locking beam. "How - how do I look?"

Clatia gave her a girlish simper. "Beautiful, m'lady."

_Liar. _Astrid returned her smile, albeit coldly. "Thank you." _Perhaps I will look beautiful after tonight, though._

She untucked a few strands of her grown-out fringe, swept to the side. Time to go.

**~:~:~**

"Sif? _Sif?_ Come on, I know you're in there." Astrid rapped on Sif's door loudly.

The door swung open. Sif glared at her, her steely-gray gaze sharp enough to slice rock. "Is it time already?" she asked grumpily

Astrid took in her friend's blood orange-colored dress. It had been pressed fine and clung to her hips, suiting Sif with an elegance and dignity that contrasted sharply to her dark, teased-up hair.

"I don't want to go. There will be a large group of people we will have to pretend to like. They'll get drunk, someone will drink far too much and pass out, and the boys will show off like trained baboons." Sif turned to disappear back into her room. "Have fun without me, Astrid."

"At least _your_ father won't be there." Astrid grabbed the older girls's elbow and dragged her out into the hallway. Ignoring the look of wrath Sif shot her, she continued, "Besides, we'll officially become members of court. We'll receive _titles." _She tried to make it sound as though it was something she wanted.

"Oh." Sif patted Astrid's shoulder in a mocking way. "You're worried about Aegir, aren't you?"

Astrid sighed and rubbed her forehead with a weary hand. "Yes." The word came out in an expelled breath. "I know exactly what he'll do. Drink himself stupid and get into a brawl. Ran will ignore him and wave her net around, bragging about the number of men she has drowned, and my sisters will titter and amass suitors, each trying to outdo the other in number of boys fawning over her."

"Poor girl," Sif moaned, sneering. "Let's go and get drunk. Maybe you won't notice your father, your mother and nine alluring sisters."

"Your lack of a brain never ceases to amaze, Lady Sif," Astrid teased, struggling to keep a straight face. She raised two well-shaped eyebrows in jest. "Surely you know that _I _am the most ravishing of my sisters? After all, I have this little accessory-" she gestured to her cicatrix, breaking into a tiny smile "-to accompany me wherever I go!"

"Right, of course," Sif taunted, striding down the hallway. "How could I forget your comeliness? After all, you are the picture of loveliness, aren't you?"

That last crack stung, just a little. Astrid followed Sif, who began waltzing with an imaginary partner, down the suddenly quiet passageway, towards the Great Hall. Through the weeks, months and years that Astrid had shouldered her scar, people had become more and more accustomed to it. And so they became more accustomed to making light of it, because that was what she herself did to keep anyone else from seeing how _ugly _she felt whenever she glimpsed herself in the mirror.

That would all change tonight.

Assuming her father didn't do anything to mess the ceremony up.

**~:~:~**

Fandral's arm sneakily encircled Sif's waist. With a small yelp of surprise, she shoved him away from her, shuffling farther away from him on the black cow's-leather divan. A fire burned low in the central hearth, lighting up the golden walls of the lounge in the dusky evening light.

"_Fan_dral," Hogun said, chastising his friend in one word.

"At least wait until the ale has settled in, ay?" Volstagg suggested with a large grin. "Or just wait until you have lost our bet."

"What bet is that?" Astrid asked, half-humoring him and half-curious.

"Oh, just a little wager on who can hold the more alchohol." Volstagg waved away the thought as though it was a mere trifle.

"Nonsense - we both know who will win." Astrid raised an eyebrow mischieviously.

"Me."

"Me." It was said at the same time, from both of them. They glanced at each other, and at the same moment Astrid saw that they might have a fight on their hands before they ever got into the Hall.

Hogun coughed quietly. "Astrid, please don't rile them. We're all nervous as it is."

"Nervous? Who's nervous?" Volstagg thumped his chest and glared around him, waiting for someone who was fool enough to challenge him. When no one moved to do so, he lapsed into compatible silence, staring into the scarce flames.

"And where are Thor and Loki?" Sif asked, to fill the silence. "And Amora, Tril and Ousta, for that matter?"

"Oh, them," Fandral shook his head in a deriding way. "Thor and Loki, princes that they are, will be joining us later, through a separate entrance. Amora and her two less-pretty lackeys... well, Odin and his council didn't feel as though they were ready to receive their titles."

Astrid allowed a smug smirk to cross her face, pleased that Amora wouldn't be accepted yet.

A servant marched into the lounge, a stern - yet somewhat bored expression - gracing his face. "M'lords and m'ladies are required in the Great Hall," he barked, looking straight ahead.

Fandral stood slowly, languidly. "All right, all right, keep your doublet on."

The servant glanced despairingly at him, before remembering his place and adopting an indifferent look.

Volstagg yawned. "Shall we?" He extended an arm to Sif.

Sif smiled and gave him a little curtsy. "I think we shall." She took his arm and they followed the servant out of the room.

Hogun glanced at Astrid and held his armored arm out to her. She grinned and glanced at Fandral, who looked incredulous. She took Hogun's arm and wrinkled her nose at Fandral. "Oh, dear, is Fandral the Dashing _really _walking into the Great Hall without a lady by his side?"

Fandral swallowed, and glanced around the room. His gaze rested upon a particularly well-dressed chamber maid passing through the lounge with a basket of fabric cradled against her sizable chest. He whistled through his teeth and she looked up, startled, her blonde hair falling into her eyes.

"You, there," Fandral said brusquely. "Next to me, into the Hall, and you may resume your duties."

The maid hurried to his side, looking both giddy with excitement and very nauseated at the same time.

Astrid clicked her tongue in disapproval and pulled Hogun out of the room, feeling a ball of exhilaration form in the pit of her stomach despite herself.

**~:~:~**

The Hall opened its doors to them, and Astrid was hit immediately with a wave of noise, movement and color. Everything and everyone seemed to be pulsing with an aura of gold and silver. She swallowed and moved slightly closer to Hogun.

Volstagg and Sif, laughing, materialized at their side. "Come, come, we have the seats of honor," Volstagg cried and whisked them to the head of the great banquet table, where they were welcomed with yells of greeting.

Astrid lowered herself into the chair, accepting a cup of blood-colored ale from a passing serving-man gratefully. She drank deeply from it, eyes scanning the room all the while for her family.

A time passed, but a hand clapped suddenly onto her shoulder and she choked into her goblet, startled. She turned her head disdainfully, to stare into eyes the color of a chilled sea.

"Kolga," she greeted her youngest sister stiffly. "How - nice to see you again." She stood and they exchanged an awkward embrace.

Kolga, a petite, sweet-looking girl with red hair that ran down her back like blood, smiled frostily. "Astrid. You're looking... wonderful. Please, come and see our sisters. We have been waiting for you all night."

"Of course." Astrid gulped down the rest of her wine for strength, and smiled weakly. "Ale?" she asked.

Kolga stared at her, as though she couldn't believe how foolish Astrid was. "We do not consume alcohol, though we often brew it with Father. You would know this if you had stayed home."

"Yes. I would. Now, where are our sisters?"

Kolga led her through the crowd of people, casting disdainful looks left and right, until they came upon a small group of young Asgardians - a few attractive girls and a large flock of young men and boys dancing attendance on them.

Astrid made her way to her eldest sister first, as was polite. "Himinglaeva," she said as the beautiful girl's light blue eyes travelled to meet her hazel ones.

"You've grown." This was Himinglaeva's only comment, before turning back to simper at the boy tugging at her dress sleeve.

Astrid cleared her throat quietly and was rewarded with a few glances from three of her other sisters. Dufa, Blooughadda and Hefring, all older than her, nodded coldly in her direction and proceeded to ignore her.

"Astrid. My, how different you look." The voice, akin to water rushing over river-smoothed pebbles, drew her attention from behind.

She turned to see her mother. Ran, eyes colder than the ocean in winter, smiled at her fifth daughter. Her long black hair flowed down her shoulders, nearing her waist. A black dress incased her impossibly perfect body. A silver fishing net hung from her left shoulder - her weapon of choice.

"Hello, mother." _Sunken any ships recently? _

"Your father and I are very proud of you. You will, tonight, be named guardian and name-keeper of the ocean and the seas, I have no doubt." There was no pride in her mother's eyes, though, only a hungry look.

"No doubt." At that point, Odin rose from his throne and gestured for silence. A hush fell over the room. Astrid glanced at her mother, who stared at her evenly, and slipped off to find Hogun.

He was watching Volstagg and Fandral silently argue, with humor in his normally-emotionless eyes. Sif motioned Astrid to her side, and they waited for Odin to begin speaking.

"We are gathered here tonight to commemorate the passage into adulthood for seven of our children. They will receive their title and be accepted into the maturity of Asgard. They shall be recognized as of age from the moment their acceptance passes their lips." Odin motioned the five of them forward. As one unit, they moved to kneel before Odin and Frigga.

"Fandral Bragison." Odin uttered the name with a sense of finality.

Fandral looked up, a stern manner hovering around him.

Astrid glanced at her family as Odin continued. They stood in a close knot, Ran above her daughters by at least a head. Where was her father? Probably drinking in a corner somewhere.

Her attention was diverted as a cheer rose up. Fandral stood slowly, soaking up the roar with a pleased look. He rose as a fully-fledged member of Asgard, and walked to join the crowd to their left, some of whom struck him on the back. He met Astrid's eyes and grinned.

Volstagg was inducted, and after that Hogun, who straightened up with the gravest expression Astrid had ever seen him wear.

She tensed slightly as Sif was named the name-bearer of war and the element of earth. When they had been younger, Sif and Astrid had argued over who would be named keeper of battles. And now Sif had been. With a narrowing of her eyes, she accepted it grudgingly. Sif was a better warrior than her, she had always trained harder, so she got the honor of being the named the guardian of war.

And now it was her turn.

Astrid had a vague awareness of her own mouth letting the words, "I swear," slip out a fraction too early, and there was a light chuckle from the audience. A rush of embarrassment in the form of a bright scarlet flush ran into her face, but Odin carried on.

"If you would carry these terms, I name you, Astrid Aegirsdaughter, guardian and keeper of the season of winter and all hunting done during it."

Astrid bowed her head and stood, her head buzzing. Applause broke out among the Asgardians, but she didn't dare look at her mother or any of her sisters. They had expected her to be named watcher of the seas, not of the seasons!

As soon as she had joined Sif and the boys, the huge oak door burst open. With a dramatic entrance, Thor and Loki entered.

An acclamation rose, unlike any that she or her friends had gotten. That was to be expected, of course.

**~:~:~**

Volstagg slammed his tankard down on the table. _"Keep 'em comin'!" _he roared, his words slurred by the heavy drink.

Fandral, next to him, looked to be tiring. His face, bright red, was beginning to look as though it was about to burst.

A small crowd of young Asgardians gathered around them, chanting their favored winner's name.

Astrid nudged Sif, who was sitting off to the side, deep in thought, and murmured quietly that she was going to bed. After Thor had been named name-bearer of thunder and storms, and Loki of chaos and mischief, everyone had mutually agreed that there was only one way to celebrate: by getting very, very inebriated.

Astrid slipped down the arcade, her cheeks slightly ruddy from the drink she had consumed. _Preserver of winter? And of hunting during winter? _She had not seen any of her family after the ceremony; none of them had seen fit to congratulate her on her new position.

Coming to the doors that opened to her chamber, she leaned against the wall and sighed. Of winter. She was of winter now. She half expected her hair to turn white before her eyes. Instead, she pushed open the door and stepped inside her room.

Glancing once in the mirror on her way to untie her over-corset, her eyes widened, and she flew back to look at herself again.

Her scar was gone.

Without so much as a parting sting, her face was unblemished and new. And whole.

A quiet squeak of happiness escaped Astrid's lips as she took in her appearance, and she collapsed into her bed, gathering the sheets about her happily, and fell asleep in her dress.

**~:~:~**

A sharp tapping at her door brought Astrid out of the haze of sleep. She yelled out for whoever it was to go away. The door cracked open instead, letting light spill in. She growled and pulled the covers over her head.

A messenger, dark hair scraped painfully over his scalp, poked his head around the door. "L-lady Ast-Astrid," he stuttered, as she propped herself up on her elbows and fixed him with a death-glare. "The Allfather requires your pre-presence. He asks t-that you present y-yourself whenever co-con-convenient."

She ground her palm into her right eye, reveling silently in the smoothness of her skin. "Inform the Allfather that..." -she yawned and pushed herself out of the bed- "...I am coming." When Odin called for you, it was 'convenient' to drop whatever you were doing - in this case, sleep - and find him. "He is in the throne room, yes?"

"Along with Ladies F-Frigga and Ran, and Lord A-Aegir." The messenger bowed himself out of her room.

Astrid shimmied out of her dress, a ball of ice forming in the pit of her stomach. Her father and mother. With Frigga and Odin.

This wasn't going to be pleasant. In a rush, Astrid pulled a modest, dark blue doublet over her head, slipped into a pair of brown breeches and tied her sleep-ruffled hair into a disordered bun.

She hurried down to the throne room and let herself in without any great announcement. Four pairs of eyes rested on her, as though they all knew her fate.

She laced her fingers together and waited.

"Astrid, come closer." Frigga beckoned her. Astrid floated nervously towards her parents. Ran looked exactly the same as she had last night - she was even wearing the same dress. Aegir towered over the women by two heads, his great gray beard dirty and flecked with sea salt. His stormy eyes were bloodshot, but there was an anger in them.

"Your mother and father wish for you to go home with them," Odin said.

_"No!"_ The word seemed to burst out of her chest. Ran gave her a stern look. "I mean, I do not wish to go with them." Go home to the isle of Hlesey, where life would consist of brewing ale and hosting elaborate parties for Asgardians she didn't know? Never.

Ran opened her mouth to argue, but Aegir, still looking tipsy, placed a large, weather-beaten hand on his wife's shoulder.

"We would prefer to have all our daughters home with us," he rumbled, "but if her wishes are to stay, who are we to deny that wish? We are prepared to strike a deal for her continued accommodation here."

"Astrid is a good friend of my sons and their companions." Odin nodded slowly, his good eye half-closed. "We would be more than happy for her to stay at the palace. What is it you want in return for us keeping her here?"

Ran glanced sharply at Aegir, and a moment of hushed understanding seemed to pass between husband and wife.

"A betrothal," he finally said.

Astrid's breath fell away from her. _A betrothal? _To whom?

Odin's face remained passive. "To whom?" he echoed her thoughts.

"To... one of your sons."

_I don't want to marry Thor! _

"A betrothal between Astrid and one of my own sons would strengthen ties between Asgard and your territory," Odin mused. Astrid silently begged him to reconsider, to offer a counter-proposal, to do _something!_ He did nothing of the sort. "You understand, Lord Aegir, that a engagement such as this would not be followed through for some time yet. Not until they are all older."

Aegir's look grew dark, but he bobbed his head up and down. Ran, though, looked furious. "My Himinglaeva has already been bound in matrimony to a fine man - why shouldn't Astrid be? Immediately."

"Because both Thor and Loki - and not to mention Astrid - are far too young," Frigga said quietly, but there was a harsh tone to it that signified the end of the matter.

Astrid seethed; they were planning her own life without any opinion from her! She took a breath to say that she didn't want to be married, thank you very much, but her father interrupted her before she began.

"Fine, fine. But can you guarantee Astrid becoming the Queen of Asgard?"

_"Father!" _Astrid hissed, at the same time as Ran, who said, _"Aegir," _warningly.

"I cannot. I do not see Astrid and Thor as a good match. They are both headstrong, and," -Odin looked straight at her with a tiny glint of humor in his eye- "somewhat arrogant. A betrothal between them would end in a war. And besides from that, Lady Sif's father - you know of Mimir - has made an offer of his daughter for my eldest son."

Astrid couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at this. Sif and Thor were obviously in the dark about this little fact.

"I do not think we have to be so dramatic - Astrid would make a fine wife for the crown prince-" her mother began.

Astrid ground her teeth. _No, I wouldn't!_

"In fact, I do not see a match between Astrid and either of my sons functioning well. Perhaps a different arrangement can be reached."

"Either Astrid is bethrothed or we take her back to Hlesey," Ran snapped.

Odin suddenly looked old, and very, very tired. "So be it, my lady." He turned to the young woman standing stiffly in front of him, her expression hard and defiant. "Astrid, in a few months' time, you shall be betrothed to my youngest son, Loki."

_No._

**_~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~_**

**_A/N:_**_ I think we all saw that one coming, huh? I thought this chapter might be a little long, but I decided, what the heck, not to split it in two. I'm publishing the next chapter either tomorrow or three days from now - I'll see whether I finish it or not. Immense thanks to those who reviewed! I love you guys! _

_Song at the beginning is 'Snowblind' by Black Sabbath. Ran, Aegir and their nine daughters are actual Norse Mythology characters, so I don't own them. Nor do I own any of the major characters in this chapter, excepting Clatia and Astrid. Also, I'm considering changing the story's cover - not sure to what, yet, though._

_Cheers, and thanks for reading!_


	14. Chapter 14: Of Betrothals and Markets

_**A/N: **Just quickly, thanks for reviews! You guys make my day! The song is 'It Happened So Fast' by The Cribs. Also, huge apologies for using some of the actual lines from the movie in this chapter. Personally, I despise doing that, but it's only a few lines, so hopefully you'll forgive me? Enjoy!_

**Chapter 14: Of Betrothals and Markets**

**~:~:~:~:~**

_Don't go home, fine by me_  
_But you just lost your dignity_  
_Living in the dusty room_  
_Staying in and making moves_  
_So someones had enough, someones had too much_  
_Imagine being like that, it must be bloody awful_  
_But I know that it's hard to see_  
_You should stay away from me._

******~:~:~:~:~**

Odin gazed at Astrid soberly. She was standing there, auburn tresses pulled and braided into an intricate pattern that fell down her back, her dress a deep merlot velvet with a lattice gold bodice.

He looked to his son, who stood there proudly, his dress robes a bottle green color, flowing effortlessly. This was the day that the two had been dreading since they were seventeen years of age. Their betrothal day - where they would officially be bound to one another, until marriage or death.

"Do you, Loki, swear to uphold honor to Astrid till your dying day?" he asked, and Loki nodded stiffly.

"I swear," he said, his tone emotionless.

"Astrid, do you swear to love and obey, calm and restore?" asked Odin, turning to her.

Astrid swallowed thickly, and stated in a monotone, "I swear it."

Odin took the length of gold sash, and wrapped it slowly around their fingers so that they were joined by the wrist. "As father, I gladly give. As king, I gladly give." Odin watched the two wince minimally as they realized what was happening.

A heartfelt cry rose from the audience at that point. Loki sighed, resigned, and leant forwards. Astrid glanced down, flat-out refusing to meet his eyes. She lifted a hand and placed it lightly on Loki's helmet, which he held at his side, as though to steady herself. They were closer together than they had ever been, and all Astrid wanted to do was run away. Her lip curled slightly in disgust, but she touched her lips lightly to his own.

Loki kept his eyes open as their lips brushed. Astrid tasted of peaches, and of jasmine incense. An odd combination. Almost accidentally, his tongue brushed her lower lip, and she parted them, dazed and looking more than slightly repulsed. Loki was not being passionate in any way, nor did he hold affection for his _wife_, but he was curious. He was kissing someone who had been a part of his life for so long that he did not think of them as but family.

Astrid let a little sigh out into his mouth before pulling away. Loki's eyes darkened at the noise, heat pooling in his stomach. There was a small flicker of something then, a tiny exchange of connection, so small that the two of them barely registered it. But it was there.

_~:~:~:~:~:~_

Thor raised Mjölnir over his head, acknowledging the uproarious applause made by all of Asgard. His silver, winged helmet flashed as he grinned and walked down the steps of the courtroom.

Next to Astrid, Sif rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."

Astrid nudged her. "Come, Sif, this is Thor's night. The whole of the Realm Eternal has come to celebrate this," she whispered, although she couldn't help scoffing slightly at Thor's airs of confidence as he swaggered down the aisle, turning left and right.

Odin sat silently on his throne. Astrid would have given much to know what he was thinking. The throne was a beautiful object, a golden seat with wings curving out from either side. Thor turned and locked his eyes on it as the people around him cheered.

Sif leaned over to Astrid. "This may be his moment," she muttered, "but that helmet looks ridiculous."

Astrid raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. It did. The wings spiraled out to either side, adding nothing to his skills; it just looked good.

Astrid's golden-brown hair had grown longer and sleeker - well, slightly sleeker, at least - since her childhood days. While remnants of her early years remained - light freckles (instead of porcelain, clear skin like most Asgardians) dusted her forehead and cheeks, while ivory, slightly crooked teeth lined the inside of her mouth as she smiled. Standing, ramrod-straight, in between Sif and Prince Loki, she kept her eyes firmly on Thor, wondering what he would do.

But by that point, Thor had reached Odin's throne. He knelt in front of his father, sweeping off his silver helmet quickly. The atmosphere in the room hushed.

Suddenly, Astrid glanced up at Loki, curious to see what his reaction might be to Thor's coronation. The god of mischief was absolutely still, having trained his eyes firmly on the floor. Astrid smirked; someone obviously wasn't happy.

"Thor Odinson," Odin proclaimed suddenly.

Astrid's eyes slipped down and she began studying her fingernails with great vigor. As Thor's friend, she was required to be at the coronation - but that didn't mean she had to be interested, at least not until Thor had a crown on his head.

A minute passed. Odin spoke on, casting formalities into the ears of all attentive listeners. Thor remained fixated on his father. Astrid could tell that he was willing the Allfather to speak faster. The Warriors Three stood on three steps near the throne, smiling at nothing in particular. Fandral caught her eye and winked at her. She frowned at him. _Stop messing around!_

He rolled his eyes. _Don't be such a stickler, _his body language conveyed. Hogun elbowed his friend sharply in the ribs.

Suddenly, Odin paused. Astrid's head snapped up from her nails. There was no reason for him to hesitate - something was wrong.

An eternity seemed to pass. Volstagg glanced at Astrid sharply, but she shook her head - she knew about as much as he did.

"Frost Giants," Odin finally breathed. Before anyone could react, he slammed his staff down on the floor, making a sound that rang out for all to hear.

Then, the panic began. Asgardians began to swarm and call out for each other, yelling and shrieking. Guards poured from invisible places in the walls, trying to maintain order and protect everyone at the same time.

In all the chaos, Astrid saw Odin sweep himself from the room, Thor following him. Silently, Loki cast a quick glance around the hall and leave, trailing his brother and father, his ebony-and-jade cloak billowing behind him.

Astrid twisted her head and saw the Warriors Three and Sif sprinting to help the guards maintain order.

With a final glance towards Thor's retreating back, Astrid remembered her place and joined Sif and the Warriors Three quickly. She was not royalty; there were no special privileges for being a companion to the crown prince. And her position was precarious enough, what with her father threatening to bring her home every other season.

She wiped her face devoid of expression and put a hand gently in front of a hysterical woman, guiding her to a corner where she was less likely to be trampled. Astrid turned, only to be knocked to the floor by four stampeding men. She cursed loudly and pushed herself off the floor.

Traffic control was not exactly her favorite job.

_~:~:~:~:~:~_

Hours later, Astrid meandered along an open balcony-hallway, whistling softly. Hogun walked silently next to her - idle conversation had never been one of his strong points.

His hair slicked back into a leather length of string, the stern-faced warrior turned to Astrid and quietly asked her to stop whistling.

Astrid cut herself off, embarrassed. "Right, right. Apologies."

The two turned a corner, to see Volstagg by a banquet table, chopping a slab of deer meat apart. Prince Loki sat next to Prince Thor on the golden steps of the room, softly whispering into his ear.

"-If they found a way to penetrate Asgard's defenses once, who's to say they won't try again? The next time with an army." Loki's green eyes were unreadable, dark and sinister.

"Exactly," Thor barked, running a hand through his hair haphazardly.

"But there's nothing you can do without defying Father," Loki continued as Astrid quickly made her way over to Volstagg.

"What's going on?"

"Princely talk," the warrior muttered, taking a deep swig from a nearby goblet. "I don't like to interfere."

Astrid glanced over to see Thor stand, the look of anger in his eyes changed to a bright glint of inspiration.

"No, no, no-" Loki pushed himself up swiftly, a look of mild panic crossing his face.

"It's the only way to insure the safety of our borders," Thor turned to his brother with a hardened look on his face.

"Thor, it's madness," Loki hissed.

"Madness? What sort of madness?" Volstagg asked, looking up from his butchering as Fandral and Sif came in, whispering to each other.

Thor smiled recklessly. "We're going to Jotunheim."

Fandral snorted, but Astrid beat him to it.

"No, we're _not_, Thor. Loki's right - for once," she spoke in an undertone, allowing her voice to turn towards scathing. "We - you - cannot go to Jotunheim. You know as well as I that the Frost Giants are looking for any excuse to rip apart the unstable peace we hold - as demonstrated by tonight, when they attempted to steal the Casket." Thor had told them of the Frost Giants down in the vault, where they had killed the guards and nearly made off with the receptacle, the Destroyer being the only thing that had stopped them.

Sif stared at Thor disbelievingly. "Thor, of all the laws of Asgard, this is one you must not break."

Astrid's gaze was drawn suddenly to Loki. He watched the scene like a puppet-master, intrigued by the proceedings. She scowled and looked away.

"-We'd just be looking for answers," Thor was saying, rather over-dramatically.

"It is forbidden!" Sif cried, as though that put an end to it.

Thor sized them up, then suddenly smiled, changing his tactics.

"My friends," he said, practically purring, "have you forgotten all that we've done together?" He looked to Fandral, who eyed him warily, but not without interest. "Who brought you into the sweet embrace of the most exotic maidens in all of Yggdrasil?"

Astrid clicked her tongue quietly and rolled her eyes, as Fandral acknowledged that, indeed, Thor had done so.

"And who led you into the most glorious of battles..." Thor said to Hogun, and turned quickly to Volstagg. "And to delicacies so succulent,you thought you'd died and gone to Valhalla?" To Sif, he said, "And who proved wrong all who scoffed at the idea that a young maiden could be one of the fiercest warriors this Realm has ever known?"

"I did," Sif replied evenly, and Astrid stifled a laugh. The strangled noise she made Thor look over at her.

"And you, Lady Astrid, who convinced your father, the terrifying sea giant, to allow you to stay in Asgard?"

Astrid raised an eyebrow. "Your father did."

"Yes, but _I... _am his _son!" _Thor cried triumphantly.

"You are far too charismatic for your own good," she muttered to him. He grinned widely.

"My friends, trust me now. We _must_ do this."

Astrid exchanged a exasperated look with Volstagg, realizing there was to be no convincing Thor otherwise.

"Come on. You're not going to let my brother and I take all the glory, are you?" Thor asked, and Loki started; he seemed to have been lost in thought.

"Yes, of course! I won't let my brother march into Jotunheim alone. I will be at his side," Loki said quickly, looking only mildly startled. Astrid glared at him - he was only encouraging Thor! The prince ignored her, a smirk very slightly crossing his lips.

"I fear we'll live to regret this," Sif muttered to Astrid, who nodded.

Volstagg chuckled darkly. "If we're lucky."

Thor led the way out of the banquet hall, his friends and brother trailing somewhat reluctantly behind him. As Astrid passed through the entrance, a servant hurried to her side. "Lady Astrid," she murmured discreetly. "My Lady Frigga requires your presence. In the throne room."

Astrid stiffened in annoyance. "Did she say why?" she asked, managing to keep her voice smooth.

"I'm afraid not, my lady. But she did say she requires your presence immediately."

Astrid brushed a strand of copper hair out of her eyes. "I am indisposed to attend Lady Frigga at the moment, but-"

"Immediately," the servant repeated, and melted away.

Astrid gave Sif a pained look and hurried away from the group, taking a left down a passageway to the throne room. "Why is it always the throne room?" she muttered to herself, pushing a brazened door open to reveal Queen Frigga and a host of handmaidens attending her. The woman looked up from a parchment she was reading.

"Ah, Astrid." She stood from her throne and glided down the steps.

Astrid curtsied hurriedly. "You asked for me, my lady?" Her eyes darted out to the main balcony, underneath which her friends - and Loki - were no doubt already readying the horses.

"Yes. I was wondering if perhaps you might accompany me on a brief trip to the marketplace. I wish to discuss with you my son."

"Prince Loki, my lady?" Astrid asked, her eyes flitting between the queen and the Bifrost, which could barely be seen from her position.

"Yes. Now, if you would."

Astrid groaned internally. She was going to miss everything! "Yes, my lady."

_~:~:~:~:~_

Asgardians were practically swooning left and right as Frigga and Astrid rode slowly through the twisting market, three handmaidens trailing behind them. Astrid's chestnut stallion tossed his head impatiently, eyes rolling to reveal white as people passed too close for the steed's liking. Frigga's docile gray mare, by contrast, plodded along steadily.

"I understand that you are not entirely happy with your and Loki's betrothal," Frigga began, shaking her head politely as a fruit seller pressed close, holding up a peach for the queen's inspection.

"Well - yes... but, well... no, my lady." Astrid scrambled for words, but found herself tongue-tied. How to express her feelings on the situation without angering or insulting the queen?

Frigga smiled patiently and extended a hand to a Asgardian woman who held out a newborn infant. The queen patted the babe's head and the woman promptly burst into tears.

"I see. As you know, neither I nor my husband came up with the match. It was your father."

"Yes, I know-" She cut herself off to rein her mount in as he threatened to bolt.

"As much as I approve of the match, I understand that there is little chance there will ever be love between the two of you. It is a betrothal of convenience, nothing more."

"Yes." What else could she say?

"Nevertheless..." Frigga paused to reach into her pocket, cleverly concealed within her cream-colored dress, to pull out three coins, which she handed to a young boy, who gave her a bright pink flower in return. "Nevertheless, I wish for you to _try _to see Loki's good side."

_He doesn't have a good side! _she wanted to scream. _He's deceptive and selfish and too bookish for my liking, not to mention he's far too pleased with himself!_

"I will try, my lady," was all she said.

Frigga turned in her saddle and studied Astrid's face. Astrid squirmed under the lady's gentle gaze. Thoughts that she could be in Jotunheim, brandishing her hook sword at this very moment crossed her mind, and her stallion pranced in place. She quieted him by laying a firm hand on his neck. Frigga's gaze moved to Astrid's horse's head.

"I suspect you are simply saying that to please me," she said with a light laugh, "yet I appreciate it. But do try. Who knows? You may even come to love him."

Astrid gave the queen a shoddy semblance of a smile. _Never._

_~:~:~:~:~_

What felt like hours later, Astrid was pacing the halls of the palace, muttering to herself. If she could have sewed well, she would have furiously been embroidering curse words on fabric. As it was, her sewing was messy and she would not have done the stitching justice.

Four figures rushed past her, yelling. Astrid flinched and stared, only recognizing Sif and the Warriors Three - was that Fandral on Volstagg's back? - as they turned the corner. Without a moment to lose, she ran after them.

Catching up to her friends as they reached the medical bay, her breath caught in her throat as she saw the state of Fandral - a bloody gash ripped right through his stomach. _Her _stomach roiled, and she caught Sif's arm. The warrior maiden looked haggard and beaten, as healers rushed about, screaming that they needed more herbs.

"Sif," Astrid hissed. "What happened in Jotunheim?"

Volstagg turned to her, a heavy look in his eyes. "What _didn't _happen?" he asked grimly.

From his position on the bed in the healing ward, Fandral cracked a grin and chuckled, wincing as he did so. "You missed all the fun, Astrid!"

Astrid's mouth tightened as Fandral cried out suddenly. Sif turned to meet her friend's eyes. "We were lucky to escape with our lives. There-"

Before she could go any further, a wild-looking man burst into the room. Astrid recognized him as one of the captains of the guard, an honest, if somewhat dull, man.

Bluntly, he cried out, "The crown prince, Thor, has been exiled!"

Astrid's eyes widened, her mind whirling.

Hogun shook his head, a flinty but sorrowful look in his eyes. "We never should have gone."


	15. Chapter 15: Of Monsters and Old Spells

**Chapter 15: Of Monsters and Old Spells**

_~:~§~:~_

You swore and said  
We are not  
We are not shining stars  
This I know  
I never said we are  
Though I've never been through hell like that  
I've closed enough windows  
To know you can never look back

If you're lost and alone  
Or you're sinking like a stone  
Carry on...  
May your past be the sound  
Of your feet upon the ground  
Carry on...

_ ~:~§~:~_

_It's dark, and it's cold. She stands, shivering, ice forming on her breath as it spirals out in front of her. The night is so black it's almost cobalt. She stands, waiting. And shivering._

_Suddenly, with none of the slow, haze-like speed you'd expect from a dream, two huge eyes shoot open in front of her. Both are as bright a green as emeralds, but they glitter dangerously. Her heart begins to thud, then gallop. _Of course, _she can't move. And she's wearing her best dress, an olive-green-and-caramel colored garment that is totally useless. Her hook sword is nowhere in sight - it wouldn't be, though, because all she can see are the two green eyes that watch her calmly._

_The snake comes slowly into view. Larger than her mind can hold, it shakes its onyx-black scales lazily - and yawns._

_She narrows her eyes and screams - not a scream of fear, but one of defiance and stubbornness, even as she can barely move._

_The dragon - smiles? Its lips part to reveal row upon row of shining, white ivory teeth. Its forked tongue flicks out of its mouth, and from its centre comes a slow, smirking voice._

_"So full of childish bitterness, Lady Astrid?"_

_She freezes and glares at the dragon in disbelief. It shakes its head once more and fans out its neck ruff, letting loose a roar that makes the hair stand up on the back of her neck. It glances at her, as if contemplating what the best way to kill her would be. _

_Right before her eyes, it morphs. The midnight color of its body plates melts away and is replaced by dark, nut-brown scales. It closes its eyes and says, in a soft, slow drawl, "My lady, you and your little friends are not the only ones who can fight."_

_Then, its eyes pierce her. Bright, sapphire blue. Eyes that rip into her - her scar burns red-hot against her skin. Fear wraps itself around her and her heart nearly bursts in terror._

_The beast smiles again and, with a deliberate slowness, it-_

___ ~:~§~:~_  


Astrid cried out and gasped sharply, dragging herself madly out of the nothingness of the subconscious, pulling all the air she could into her lungs as the frigid night wind, blowing in through an open window, hit her like a wall. Despite that, her body was burning underneath the sheets and she pulled them off frantically, struggling as she tugged at the tangles. Finally, with a soft, harsh curse that would have curdled milk had there been any in the room, she ripped them away and stood, her mind protesting violently as her body felt all too awake.

Rubbing at her face, trying to erase the nightmare, she crossed the room and blindly poured the water in the jug sitting on her chest of drawers into a wash basin. Splashing her face, she turned the night terror over in her mind, wondering vaguely what time it was. She had gone to rest early, after leaving her friends in the healing room, the embers of the central hearth just beginning to die down. Astrid glanced up and took herself in - her reflection looked haggard, stressed and sleep-ruffled. Her auburn hair stuck out at all angles and the dark circles under her eyes were almost purple. She groaned.

Without really thinking about it, she found a gray tunic and brown breeches and slipped them on. Opening her chamber door, she stumbled down the hallway, trying - and failing - to clear her mind. The moon shone through the open arches, casting long streams of light across the floor, but Astrid was too preoccupied to notice or appreciate it.

After a few minutes of wandering down the hallway in near-darkness, Astrid saw a torch gleam spread through down the hall, coming towards her. Startled, and still half-unfocused from the nightmare, she hissed the first thing that came to mind, _"Tankasfe helain yvisinyl!" _and was surprised to actually find that the spell had worked. No longer was she visible to the eye - the spell that Astrid had tried to learn all those years ago had worked, finally, perfectly - she was entirely invisible.

_The spell requires a certain level of concentration that I doubt you possess. _She smirked as she recalled Loki's words. _Well, I possess it now, do I not?_

Even as she was lost in self-satisfaction, someone strode past her, making her start. Astrid turned to see a boy - no, a man, turning off into another passageway, his black cloak billowing behind him. She saw a glint of golden armor. _Loki._

Intrigued, she followed him, trailing behind so as not to be heard. Faintly, she thought she could hear him muttering to himself.

He flew down to Asgard's Vault, his pace - and Astrid's curiosity - increasing with every step. As he locked the door behind him, she slipped to the side of the staircase. Loki paused, as though he had heard something, and looked straight at her. Astrid remained still, calm, convinced that he was looking _through _her.

After an eternity, the young man shook his head, ran a quick hand over his slicked-back hair and descended the staircase. Astrid followed him about halfway down, and stopped on a platform, where she had a perfect view of the entire Vault. Loki darted down to the end of hallway, slowing down as he reached the pedestral. The Casket of Ancient Winters squatted innocently on its perch; he lifted it up, and as he did, without ceremony a blueness spread from his arms, across his body. Even with he back turned away from her, Astrid recoiled in horror. In front of the prince, the latticework encasing the Destroyer began to separate, the metal warrior itself beginning to stir, a fire sparking to life within its black armor. Loki ignored it as the blue spread further, consuming his entire body.

From behind her, a voice cried out, _"Stop!"_

Astrid nearly toppled back over the platform as Odin hurried past her, narrowly missing her. The Allfather gave his son a look of dismay as the Destroyer went motionless once more.

Loki turned, and Astrid only just managed to avoid yelping with fright. Loki's normally green eyes, now bright red, pricked his father's gray ones. A pattern, standing out from his blue skin, starkly traced its way across his forehead.

"Put the Casket down," Odin warned his son slowly. Astrid watched silently, unseen, as her bethrothed set the Casket back upon its pedestral. His body turned slowly back to its normal color. He stared at his father, a shadow of mistrust beginning to spread its tendrils across his finely-boned face.

"What am I?" he rasped, voice hoarse with thinly-concealed anger.

"You're my son."

"What... what more than that?" Loki growled, and looked, again, straight at Astrid. She went rigid, a deer caught in the sweeping beam of a hunter's searchlight.

Odin didn't answer.

The truth seemed to dawn on Loki. "The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day... was it?" he asked heavily, his voice dark.

Astrid's head pounded, still trying to comprehend the situation. The Vault swirled before her. She was - she was to be... to be married to this man. To this monster, whatever he was...

"-Laufey's son," Odin finished. Astrid cringed as Loki repeated his father's words, desperately struggling to come to terms with the situation.

As quietly as she could, she made her way back up the steps as the two continued talking. Panic bubbled inside her, and she was having trouble quelling it.

_"Tell me!" _Loki screamed behind her, and Astrid murmured something indistinguishable, almost a whimper. She turned her head over her shoulder, to meet Loki's eyes once again; his head had snapped to locate the sound she had made. Astrid couldn't leave now - they would both hear the door open and close, and Loki would immediately be suspicious of her. Nevertheless, she got as close to the door as she could, shoving down the hysteria she was feeling back down her throat.

"I only wanted to protect you from the truth," Odin was saying, sounding suddenly less like a king and more like a tired old man.

"Why? B-because I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?" Loki stammered, and Astrid silently answered his question. _Yes._

"Don't..." Odin trailed off, staggering in his place slightly.

But Loki was on a roll. He spat, "_Oh, _it all makes sense now. Why you favored Thor all these years."

"Listen-"

Loki cut him off. "Because no matter how much you claim to love me, _you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the Throne of Asgard!"_

Odin drew in a shaky breath, his body beginning to shake. Loki made to shove past him, towards Astrid, who shrank back against the wall.

"Loki!" Odin cried, and started towards his son, but without warning his entire body seemed to move out of sync with the rest of the world. He fell to the floor, his face contorting in pain.

The prince turned, shocked, and hurried to his father. Crouching over him, he cried out for guards.

Three men immediately rushed in, one nearly knocking the shellshocked Astrid to the ground. The leader surveyed the situation and gave a rapid-fire order to the two others. With great care, the three of them lifted the king up and hastily out of the vault.

Loki followed them slowly, but paused at the door. He closed it after the guards.

"Astrid," he muttered. It was a greeting, a confirmation. Not a question.

She pulled away from him, hoping that he hadn't yet seen her. A foolish hope.

Loki bolted forward and grabbed her by the neck. She let out a sound akin to a snarl, and struggled in his grip, still invisible.

_"Tankasfe helain yvisinyl tzors!" _he hissed and Astrid materialized, looking half-sulky and half-frightened out of her wits.

For a moment, they stared at each other. Challengingly, her hazel gaze hit his jade one like a missile.

"Not... one word... about this, Astrid," he said through his teeth.

She refused to answer him, only moving her hands up to try and pry his grip off of her neck - she was getting a bruise very quickly.

_"Do you understand?"_ he asked furiously, shaking her slightly.

"Yes... my lord," she said snidely.

He let go of her, and she moved a few paces away, rubbing her neck.

"Not one word," he repeated, and turned to leave.

"Frost Giant," she breathed behind him. He paused, one hand tightening on the metal door until his knuckles were white. "I don't see how... and still," she continued, picking up speed slightly as the cruel punchline was delivered, "perhaps it is my burden to carry - to be betrothed to a monster." She looked maliciously at him, eyes dark with spite.

Loki seemed as though he was about to say something, but straightened his shoulders and without looking back, left her alone.

___ ~:~§~:~_  


_"I suspect you are simply saying that to please me," Queen Frigga said with a light laugh, "yet I appreciate it. But do try. Who knows? You may even come to love him."_

_Astrid gave the queen a shoddy semblance of a smile. _Never.

Not then, when she had despised him all her life. Not now, that she knew what he was.

Not ever.

**___~:~§~:~_**

**___A/N: _**___The song is 'Carry On' by my all-time favorite band, Fun._

___Please accept my most heartfelt gratitude, o exalted ones who review and favorite and alert. Less than three (3) to all of you! Sorry for the short chapter._

___Again, I do not own Marvel or any of its characters - I do own Astrid, though. And boy, is she nasty at times! _

___Finally, I really want a cover for this fic. Anybody interested, please PM me - I know this isn't 'the most celebrated fic on the web' or anything, but it's nice to be personalized, huh? I love writing this, and hopefully you enjoyed reading!_

___Cheers, and _this message will self-destruct in ten seconds.


	16. Chapter 16: Of Kings and Passing

**Chapter 16: Of Kings and Passing**

**_~:~§~:~_**

_Baby I've been here before _

_I've seen this room and I've walked this floor _

_I used to live alone before I knew ya _

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch _

_But love is not a victory march _

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

_..._

_Well, maybe there's a God above _

_But all I've ever learned from love _

_Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya _

_It's not a cry that you hear at night _

_It's not somebody who's seen the light _

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

**~:~§~:~**

Astrid spun around and thrust the hook sword through the training dummy. Straw went everywhere. With a quick motion, she pulled it out again and whirled to meet her next opponent - one of the minor nobles of the court with a fiery temper, and a mustache to boot. Their weapons let off a sharp _clang _that echoed around the training yard as the man rotated his dulled blade to sweep at her feet. Astrid vaulted over his reach and brought the butt of the sword down onto the crown of his head hard enough to make the warrior stumble, dazed, but not enough to knock him out. She placed the point of her sword just in front of his throat.

"Surrender?" she asked calmly, lifting her left hand to scratch her nose.

The man frantically nodded, and Astrid turned away idly, wondering where Fandral was. They had made an appointment, of sorts, to spar and decide once and for all who was best with the sword. Astrid had a horrible feeling that it would have been him - had he showed up. Instead, she had gotten bored and was calling random men and women who passed by to come and try their luck. So far, she was no less bored. Mostly were poorly trained nobles, and few had given her any challenge - although she had gotten a good fight out of one of the palace guards, who probably should have been patrolling.

"You there!" she called to a passing young man, probably a messenger from the looks of the scroll clutched in his hand. He started, and she grinned, flushed slightly from her previous fight. "Have you any idea where Fandral Bragison is?"

The man twitched a little, but said, "No, Lady Astrid, but I would saw him with Lady Sif - and the other Warriors Three - making all haste to the throne room." He bobbed his head, as though agreeing with himself. "Perhaps I ought to be returning to my duties in the kitchen, m'lady."

She waved an airy hand at him, dismissive, having already forgotten him. "Yes, yes. Go back to your work." To herself, she muttered something about certain blond men forgetting promises they had made, in favor of 'making all haste to the throne room'.

Pushing it out of her mind, she whirled and shoved the sword through the belly of another training dummy.

"Surrender, my good fellow?" she inquired of the inanimate model.

As she pulled her sword out, the dummy fell flat on its featureless face. Spinning the sword in her hand, Astrid took that to be a yes.

The sky was awash in gold-and-pink satin by the time Astrid finished. Although it had been no more than an hour, it had felt like far longer, as few people willing to spar with her had passed by. Nevertheless, she felt obliged to continue until her muscles ached from the never-ceasing motion.

Sheathing her sword, Astrid brushed a lock of russet hair out of her eyes and looked over her shoulder, hoping to see Fandral - or indeed anyone else - coming towards her, looking murderous with battle-rage.

She would have been so lucky. Growling in the back of her throat, she shrugged off the well-used training armor - her actual armor was reserved for battles or particularly dangerous hunts - and threw her sword to the side, more carelessly than needed. For a moment, Astrid smiled at the clatter it made as it hit the straw-dusted stones and skittered away, causing a few sparks to jump out of nowhere.

**~:~§~:~**

She climbed the steps to the pavilion standing to the side, taking a moment - but no longer than that - to appreciate the sunset. Walking briskly, she made her way to back to her chambers to change out of her rather worn doublet into something more appropriate for a lady of her stature.

Loki sprawled on the throne, his legs splayed outwards, his forefinger curled against his lips in thought. His golden helmet was perched on his head, giving him an aura of intimidation. Astrid strode into the room, her dress of gentle blue swirling about her feet and looking dangerously close to tripping her up, but almost ironic on her battle-hardened body. She was surprised for a moment, when she saw him on the throne, but quickly reacted.

"Loki, what is this madness?" she demanded as soon as she saw him.

He took her in evenly, gaze steady. There was a momentary battle of wills, where they stared at each other, vying for power. After a few seconds, Astrid dropped her gaze demurely to the floor, furious with herself and Loki smirked.

"You haven't heard?" he asked, spreading one of his arms to indicate the entire room. "With my father in Odinsleep, I am the ruler of Asgard." He leaned forward slightly, curious to see how she would take the news.

Astrid blinked twice. "My king," she snapped angrily, dropping to her knees sharply, and standing again so quickly that Loki barely recognized the movement.

"This does not surprise you, I see." Loki's eyes remained, as always, intolerably unreadable. "Perhaps you were... expecting this?"

"Not at all." Astrid paused for a breath. Loki had become king without so much as a ripple; no coronation, no celebration. But perhaps he liked it better that way. "This does not make me... me queen, does it?" She had no desire to be ruler of Asgard, least of all by Loki's side. But there was no denying a flutter of anticipation in her stomach as she awaited his answer.

"Not at all," Loki echoed her words. "Not until we are properly bound to each other. And - I think you'll be rather happy to hear this - we will not be, by my command. You won't be married, at least not until my father wakes. Which he might never do." A cloud passed over his features, obscuring them, but when it was gone he was all smug smiles again.

"Fine." It was better this way. She would have made a terrible queen. "And you can break our betrothal altogether? I think it would be much... healthier for the both of us."

Loki rolled his eyes over-exaggeratedly. "Alas, I cannot. My father would not have wanted it, and we do not want your father and all the might of the seas he commands to wage war on the palace over a silly binding ritual."

"Fine," she spat.

"Astrid," he said, rising. "You seem irate,_ beloved_. What is ailing you?" He so loved using terms of affection towards her. She would flinch, and her eyes would twitch so _delightfully _that he would feel glee settle at the pit of his stomach.

"It is this, then," she said, gesturing to the room. Her well-formed eyebrows were knit low over her brow.

Loki glanced about the chamber, "Do you not like the style? The gold is a tad gauche, I agree."

"Have you no sincerity?" she spat at him furiously, her eyes shooting daggers. "I mean to say that how may you rule when Thor is exiled? Do you not love him, as a true brother should? Now that you are king, you have the power to release from exile. _Bring him home."_

"I love Thor more than you could ever comprehend," Loki retorted, coming down the steps slowly, to look her in the eyes disdainfully. Astrid had to crane her neck to glare at him, and Loki relished the look of irritation in her eyes as the neck-ache began to sink in.

"Then why not show it, Loki? Your actions speak louder than your words," she said fiercely.

"I cannot."

"Why?" she challenged, voice on the verge of shrill.

"As I informed the Warriors Three and Lady Sif when they came to me earlier, I am king now. As king, I need to gain approval from everyone around us. I cannot do that by undoing all of my father's commands."

Astrid glared at him, but sighed heavily. She looked down, as though a witty answer might have been imprinted on the marble floor. "This is madness, Loki. I am bound to you, as by the All-Father's command. Thor is in exile, the Norns do not stir, Jotunheimr is in a state of flux." She hesitated. "Perhaps this is the Ragnarok?"

"No," Loki said, shaking his head. "No, I would know Ragnarok when it comes, Astrid. And this is not Ragnarok."

"Well, it feels like it," she huffed, and turned to the side. Loki allowed himself the slightest flash of teeth as he smiled. He enjoyed proving her wrong. There was a silence.

"Astrid?" he asked suddenly, looking at her gravely. His tone was strange, completely different from a few moments previously.

She looked up at him, surprised. "What, Loki?" Astrid asked, irritated. Her eyebrows shot upwards in mild curiosity, but each word coated in venom.

He exhaled sharply. "Do you truly think I could rule Asgard in Thor's stead?" he asked, his brows furrowing. "Do you think that Thor himself would be the better ruler?"

Astrid bit her lip, pondering the question, and wondering why in the world Loki would ask _her._

Thor was reckless, yes, but kind hearted beneath the layers of muscle, and a loving friend. Loki was determined, shrewd, but studious and well read. The two brothers were as different as day and night, white and black, fire and ice.

Astrid tried to think of Thor as a king. Perhaps people would be more happy under his rule than his brother's, but then Astrid thought of her friend's recklessness, his strong-headedness. He had rushed into a fight when he was younger, and she emerged from the wreckage with half a face missing.

Loki as king, however, Astrid saw disgruntled citizens. Disgruntled, but peaceful. She could think of no war Loki would cause, nor any form of true destruction and loss she could imagine under Thor. Despite how much it pained her to admit, Loki did seem like a reasonable choice for king.

"I think..." Astrid said slowly, attempting to process her lateral thinking into words, "I think that you would have a reign of peace beneath you, Loki." She paused, and rethought the situation. "Yes," she said, nodding unsurely. "On par with Thor, but not better. You would be a fine king."

The second the words left her mouth, an odd expression fell upon Loki's face. His eyes darkened so that all she could see was a ring of green around a circle of pitch.

"Say that again," he said quietly, his voice tight and strained. "Say that last part again, Astrid. Please."

"You would be a good king," she said, slightly confused as to his behavior. "Loki, what of i-"

Loki splayed a palm against the back of her head, tips of his fingers biting crescents into her skull as he yanked forward, pulling her lips to his.

His kiss was bruising and powerful, and Astrid stood there for a moment, allowing the sensations to wash over her. Then her eyes narrowed to hazel slits, fighting back thoughts of sapphire eyes and cruel smiles. Rallon was gone, and it was time she stopped letting him haunt her. Astrid wanted desperately to pull away from Loki, but something kept her frozen, locked in his embrace. And she would never admit to herself, not anyone else, what it was.

Loki was still the one who would not let Thor return. She kissed back angrily, pouring out her anger, her despair, her complete confusion. His lips moved seamlessly, and all she could think was _where had he been practicing? _Her eyes were open as she watched him, his own lids serenely closed. She was shocked by his behavior. His tongue whipped at her bottom lip, and Astrid allowed her lips to part with a startled (and rather embarrassing) moan.

Loki tasted of providence and ruin, with a hint of sandalwood and mint. Astrid wound her fingers into his hair, tugging at them, seething, so that he groaned quietly, the sound setting all sorts of reactions on her skin. Astrid snaked her fingers across his neck, dragging her nails along it so that he hissed into her mouth. She was trying to infuriate him, but it _wasn't working. _He bit her lip, and Astrid's eyes shot open again, startled, only to shut when he soothed the sting with a gentle kiss to her bottom lip. She could feel a grin on his lips, and a snarl on hers.

"My king," called a guard, and the two snapped apart, eyes wide. "The Warriors Three and Lady Sif are here to see you once again. Should I tell them that you are indisposed?"

"Yes," Loki said, his voice a husky tone. He cleared it, clearly embarrassed. "Yes, Kaul. Make them wait."

"Very good, sire."

Astrid could feel her lips tingle in the silence of the room.

Loki ran a hand through his head, totally unsure of what had just happened. She had declared him a fair king, and energy had just pulsed through him and into her.

"That was a mistake," she said, her voice toneless. Loki looked at her through his lashes, and, despite feeling slightly hurt by her bluntness, nodded.

"I did not mean for that," he agreed, licking his lips absently. Her eyes tracked the movements of his tongue, before snapping her gaze away, mortified. She was Astrid, not some easily-wooed lady of the day.

"I was distraught," she said. "My emotions got the better of me," she said, and Loki latched eagerly on to this excuse.

"Yes, yes, I as well. The loss of both my father and brother have caused me much grief, and the need of an outlet was overwhelming," he murmured, cheeks still burning. "Forgive me, Astrid."

Astrid's tongue flickered almost unnoticeably over her bottom lip. She could still taste him. "I do not know what came over me. Forgive me, Loki."

"There is nothing to forgive."

"Then it is the same with me." Face burning, she turned away.

**~:~§~:~**

Days later, she was looking for him. Why was it whenever she needed to see him, he was gone? Astrid came close to interrogating just about every man and woman she came across, but none had seen her, until she found Vidar, a young guard, and one of the only women. The petite girl stood attentively, sword hanging silently by her side, as Astrid questioned her.

"My lady, I have not seen the king as of recently. But only this morning, I saw him riding towards the Bifrost. On a journey, perhaps to Alfheim?"

"Or Midgard," Astrid breathed. Could Loki have reconsidered? Might he be bringing his brother home? She thanked Vidar quickly and made her way to the healing room to find Hogun, with whom she had promised to make good a stale bet on who could win at chess, a Midgardian game that was surprisingly intriguing.

She did not see Loki for the rest of the day, and as such did not know of his mysterious movements. By the time he returned to the palace, it had slipped her mind.

**~:~§~:~**

"No time to explain, Astrid, just come with us." As Volstagg passed her, he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her along.

"What?"

Hogun cocked an eyebrow. "Heimdall has demanded our presence."

Astrid's eyes shot to the grim warrior. "When you say 'we', do you mean 'we' or _'we'_?"

Sif laughed, a short, one-syllable guffaw. "What else? The second one."

Astrid cringed. "That's what I was afraid of. What did Fandral say this time?"

Fandral, walking at the head of the group at a quick pace, put a mock-offended hand to his chest. "Me? What would lead you to think that _I _am the one responsible for this summoning?"

"I don't know how you do it, but it is somehow _always_ your fault," Astrid responded thoughtfully.

They made their way, on horseback, to the Bifrost and the observatory swiftly, taking turns to blame each other. As they reached the entrance, their pace slowed and they entered as a tight-knit group. They found the intimidating Heimdall, whom Astrid had met only a few times in her lifespan, glaring at them accusingly from the centre of controls.

Volstagg immediately tried to interrupt the Gatekeeper before anyone had spoken. "Good Heimdall, let us explain..."

Astrid shrank down beside Fandral as Heimdall asked sternly, "You would defy the commands of Loki, our king, break every oath you have taken as warriors, and commit treason to bring Thor back?"

She exchanged a nervous glance with Sif, shifting from foot to foot unconsciously.

"Yes, but-"

"Good."

There was a pause. _What did he say? _Astrid looked at him sideways. Was there a glint of dark humor in his golden eyes?

"So... you'll help us?" Volstagg asked slowly, his hopeful tone rising.

Heimdall shook his head, the movement minimal. "I am bound by honor to our King. I cannot open the Bifrost to you." With that, he left the five of them alone in the room. Astrid watched him go, then turned to Fandral, who looked as puzzled as she felt.

Suddenly, Sif cried, "Look!"

She turned to see Heimdall's huge sword rammed into the control panel of the Bifrost. With slow understanding, Astrid broke into a huge grin. _Perfect._

"It would appear that we have an ally," she intoned as Sif hit the controls. Lights flashed and a sluggish _whirring_ sound started as the transporter fired up.

Fandral turned suddenly to her. "Stay here," he commanded her, like one would command a dog to sit.

Astrid glared at him. "Why?" she demanded, itching to slap him.

"We need someone back here, to keep Loki from destroying Asgard."

_"That is the worst reason I have ever heard." _She had to fairly shout to be heard over the now-roar of the controls. "Loki will not destroy Asgard - and besides, I wish to retrieve Thor with the rest of you!" She was sounding more and more like a common pet - _sit, stay, retrieve. _Next would be the lying down and rolling over.

But Sif was shaking her head. "Fandral's right, Astrid - for once," she added, glaring at the blond warrior, who nodded in appreciation at the unexpected support. " We need you, but the kingdom needs you more right now. Loki will know where we've gone - you must keep his mind off of us so he doesn't send warriors to stop us."

"But-"

"Please, Astrid, for once in your life, listen to something one of us tells you to do!" It was Hogun who had spoken. She glanced at him sharply, not expecting the sudden outburst. If it had been Fandral, Sif or Hogun, she would have ignored them and gone to Midgard. As it was, her features contorted in an expression of absolute fury for all of three seconds. Then it was gone, and she gave the four a nod of undertaking.

"I despise all of you," she muttered, just loud enough for them to hear.

"I'll make it up to you when we return, triumphant," Fandral shouted as he and the others approached the portal. "Lady Astrid, ready yourself for the most magical night you have ever experienced!"

"Not for all the-" But they were gone. With a huff, she stormed out of the Bifrost and mounted the chestnut stallion, who snaked his head forward and raced away. She bent low over his neck, relishing the feeling of the wind whipping at her hair.

**~:~§~:~**

"Loki, I would speak with you-" Astrid pushed open the door to the throne room. She was alone. She glanced around hurriedly. "Why is it that whenever I need to find someone, they're never there?" she asked the empty room.

Unsurprisingly, no one answered.

She barely saw Loki for the next few hours. Once again, she was forced to embark on a wild-goose chase, running around the palace asking anyone and everyone if they'd seen him. Wherever she went, she seemed to have 'just missed him'. A few told her they'd seen him riding towards the Bifrost, but she would have seen him - so she continued her fruitless search.

At least, until someone fell from a window just above her head

Astrid heard the resounding splinter of plaster, marble and glass before she saw the body. Whirling to see someone falling past the alcove overhanging the corridor, she dropped her bow and raced to see who it was.

Lying in the reflecting pools below, covered in water, groaning, was Thor. Astrid couldn't contain a whoop of joy as she recognized him. With a moan, he looked up and grinned.

In one smooth motion, she hoisted herself up and jumped over the bannister, landing steadily on her feet beside him, splashing him with another wave of water.

"Welcome home, Thor." She smiled, ready to embrace him, but although Thor returned her gaze warmly, he seemed to be preoccupied with something behind her.

Astrid turned, and the grin melted off her face as quickly as the water streaming off her arms. The Bifrost was spinning once more, and this time the turret was pointing towards Jotunheim.

She swallowed. "Loki?"

"Yes." Thor bent his legs, and swinging his hammer - he had managed to get it back, she was glad to see - and rose into the air, shooting towards the Bifrost.

For a moment, she stood there. Then, with a sigh, and a silent resolution that she was not going to miss the fight _again, _she ran towards the stables to procure a horse.

Astrid vaulted off the black mare - the first horse she could find, having ripped the reins from the hand of a shocked-looking groom - before the horse slowed. Hand on her sword, she sprinted towards the Bifrost, only to look up and see a dark shape flying straight towards her. She only had time to register blond hair and a red cloak before Thor hit her at full pelt.

She shoved him off her, groaning. Her head pounding, Astrid turned to ask Thor just what he thought he was doing, when she saw a bright red stain blossoming out from beneath his armor. Despite this, the man rose to his knees. Astrid followed his lead, drawing her hook sword as Loki came striding up to them.

A startled look crossed his face, but only for an instant. "So, Astrid, come to fight me?" he mocked. "This is between my brother and I. Leave. Go back to your finery."

Everything she had ever held against him came flying back to her. Every cruel jibe, at her appearance, her dress, her intelligence. Every trick he had pulled, every snide comment he had made. It all flashed into her mind, and she saw red.

And pushed it aside. Lowering her sword, she glowered at him. "Loki, stop it. this is madness."

"You will not fight?" He looked faintly surprised - and faintly amused. "How unlike you, Astrid. I would have thought that you might have taken this chance to exert some of what your hatred against me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thor nod, almost imperceptibly. She had given him enough time to recover. Bolting forward, she slashed viciously at her betrothed, cutting right through him. He only laughed, and disappeared.

Astrid knew what had happened a second too late. Spinning on her toes to face the _real _Loki, she was caught in the chest with the spear, swung like a bat by the prince, who smiled lazily at her. Flung backwards, she landed on her back, and stars exploded in her line of vision.

Fighting her consciousness proved to be of no use. The world vanished in a red roar of pain, just as she saw the hazy outline of Thor raising Mjolnir in the air.

**~:~§~:~**

She was vaguely aware of a grinding sensation in her head, and someone shaking her shoulder far too hard.

Her eyes shot open and she jerked upright, only to have her head erupt with pain. She clutched at it, trying to still the throbbing.

"Yes, it's going to feel as though Volstagg sat on you for the next few days." Fandral shimmered into view, nodding with false sympathy.

Astrid shoved him away and stood, only to collapse back onto the hard seat. "Where is Thor?"

"Well, he isn't dead. That's good, at least." Hogun came over and seated himself calmly next to her. He handed her a goblet with a strange blue liquid floating in it. "Drink. No questions."

She sniffed at it suspiciously, but downed it in one gulp. Astrid wrinkled her nose at the taste. "I've had better." There was a pause, broken only by the dull crackle of the central hearth, glowing ruby red in the evening light streaming into the healing room. "Where is Loki?"

Fandral exchanged a glance with Hogun and dropped his gaze, concentrating on grinding a blue healing stone into a goblet of wine. "Well. You aren't betrothed anymore, Astrid. That's good, at least."

"What?" Through the mist that engulfed her dulled brain, she felt as though she should understand, but didn't.

"He fell."

_"What?"_

"Off the Bifrost." Fandral placed a steading hand on her shoulder as she began to shake, very slightly. "He is gone. I know you did not care for him - indeed, none of us regarded him as a true friend, but..." He trailed off, imploring her with a steady gaze to reply.

Astrid sat, staring straight ahead, for all of a few moments. Abruptly, she stood and swept from the room, ignoring the blatant pounding in her chest, reminding herself that the pangs simply came from being hit in the upper body by the Allfather's spear. That was all.

**~:~§~:~  
**

_**A/N: **Second-to-last chapter! That's right, you have to put up with _more _of me! I know where I'm going, if, in the foreseeable future, I start to write a sequel, and I want the last chapter to be a lead-in to that._

_Thanks for sticking with me, and I'll see you soon for one final epilogue. Kudos to all of you guys for reading this without strangling yourself with your keyboard cover! (Unless of course, you're reading it on a phone.)_

_Finally, the song is 'Hallelujah' written by Leonard Cohen (although personally I prefer the Jeff Buckley version)_


	17. Chapter 17: Epilogue

**Chapter 17  
Epilogue**

**_~:~§~:~_**

_I'm not supposed to love to you_

_I'm not supposed to care_

_I'm not supposed to live my life wishing you were there_

_I'm not supposed to wonder where or what you do_

_But I just couldn't help myself_

_I fell in love with you_

**~:~§~:~**

She wandered the hall aimlessly, silent. It had been over one year since Loki's death. Her eyes were bloodshot, staring. Her trembling hands were both placed lightly on her lower stomach.

Forseti came up behind her, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Astrid," he said softly, and she flinched, her lips curling into a snarl at the touch. "It's all right. I still love you."

Tears welled up in the corner of her eye, and she swiped viciously at them, letting out a tiny sob.

Forseti wrapped his strong arms around her. "It's okay. It's all right."

She turned and looked up at him - at his beautiful gray eyes, his chestnut-colored hair and kind face - and wished she had never met him. "No. It's not all right." She pressed herself against his chest. "But I'll be fine. I was before, and I am now." She took a long, shuddering breath. "I - It's just that... to have it happen twice within the space of a few months..."

"Sif is worried about you," the warrior reminded her, one hand on the small of her back.

Astrid laughed bitterly. "Well, we can't have that, can we? I suppose I'll have to go comfort her."

"Astrid-" Her name was reproving, but she pushed herself away from Forseti and smiled blandly at him.

"On second thought, I'm exhausted, Forseti. I'm going to my chambers." She straightened her jade-colored evening dress, rumpled with the memory of the past few hours.

"Would you like company?" He crossed the small space between them in a matter of strides and placed one hand gently under her chin, tilting her head so she looked up at him. "You know I'm here."

She covered his hand with both of hers, closing her eyes to hold back the tears that threatened to surface again. "Thank you, but I need to be by myself for a while."

Forseti nodded and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you in morning." He turned on his heel and drifted away.

She watched him go. _What am I doing? _Turning her head, she spotted something small and dark sitting on the bannister of the nearest balcony. The raven regarded her coolly as she approached it.

"Go away. Get out of here!" she hissed, waving her hands.

The raven cawed softly and flapped its wings, almost imitating her, but did not leave.

"Fine. _I'll_ leave," Astrid snapped, and did so. The raven watched her retreating back for a few moments, then took off.

She made it to her chambers without breaking down, and she regarded this as a triumph. She let her hair, tightly twisted into a bun, spill over her shoulders like molten bronze.

Then she saw what was on her bed.

Or, more precisely, floating _on _top of her bed.

A single blue rose, turning ever so gently, as though propelled by an unseen force, bobbed up and down, waiting.

She moved forward slightly, hand outstretched. The rose fell into her hand; whatever power had suspended it had been broken the moment she touched it. Astrid turned it over in her hands.

There, engraved in tiny letters along the stem:

_I don't know about you, but I wouldn't wait out here for someone to come and get me._

Hadn't she said something like that, many years ago, to him?

And on the other side of the stem:

_So full of childish bitterness._

He was dead. She knew that he was gone. But who else could have sent it? And how had he sent it? Magic, of course. In anger, she snapped the rose in two, letting the dark blue petals flutter through her fingers and land softly on the bed.

When she found him, she was going to kill him.

**~:~§~:~**

She stormed down into the citadel, walking as fast as her dress would allow her. The shadows, thrown carelessly by flickering torches, seemed to move aside for her. Astrid threw open the heavy metal doors. The three men inside froze and each made their own squeak of fear.

Astrid approached them slowly, taking in the room as she did so. Black and gold vials lined the shelves, labelled in hundreds of different languages. The room was dark, lit only by a dozen candles on the floor, surrounded by runes.

The first man recovered first. "Lady Astrid," he purred, brushing imaginary dust from his impeccably-kept robes. "What can we do for you?"

"Lord Egill," she barked. "I demand to know what you are doing."

"The Allfather's work, of course," Egill looked genuinely stunned. "Who led you down here, if I may ask? Very few people know of this room."

Astrid gestured over her shoulder, and a raven hopped into view, cocking its head and fixing its beady eyes on the lord.

He sighed. "Ravens. Irritating beasts."

"Infuriating," Astrid agreed. "But they have a surprising amount of knowledge."

The second man straightened as best he could; a hunched-over back prevented him from meeting Astrid's icy gaze completely. "The Allfather and Prince Thor are searching for a way to find Prince Loki. They believe he is not dead. We are attempting to create a spell that will send Thor to his location."

Astrid's eyes narrowed. "Oh, really?"

"Yes." Egill looked resigned. "It is not yet ready, though, and will not be for a long time. Dangerous stuff, inventing spells."

"I'll test it."

"What?"

"I said, I'll test it for you. Surely theoretical planning can only go so far."

"My lady..." Egill was at a loss for words, "Even if we were to give the spell to you - which we are not - anything could happen! You could be placed anywhere, at any time; there's no telling if you would be able to locate Loki or not."

Astrid was quiet for a moment, deliberating. She could overpower these men easily - but did she want to? Did she want to risk all for a man she told herself she hated? Here, she had Forseti, and Thor and Sif and the Warriors Three. If she left, she would never see any of them again.

The raven made the decision for her.

With a aggressive caw, it swooped forward and, with strong talons, ripped the parchment from Lord Egill's hands and swooped out of the room.

Astrid was the first to react. She was halfway down the hall, running, before the first shouts began to echo behind her. She followed the raven.

**~:~§~:~**

Astrid leaned out over the edge of the Bifrost Bridge, the wind blowing her copper hair into her eyes. Her tear-stained face was wrought with the pain that she had let no one else see. Wondering if she just let go, if she stepped off, would she find him? She shouldn't have cared, she loathed him more than anyone else she knew. She would never forget how much she hated him.

And how much she loved him.

The raven landed on her shoulder. It dropped the parchment into her hands. Slowly, she unravelled it and began to read from it. Her voice was shaking, but clear, and after a while of reading aloud, a light appeared, swirling, just off the edge of the bridge. Small at first, it grew steadily, until it stopped, waiting for her. If she wanted to reach it, she would have to jump.

The raven nipped at her ear, urging her onwards. She took a step closer, and the bridge groaned underneath her feet.

"Are you sure this is the right path?" came a voice from behind her.

Astrid turned, ignoring the raven's call of frustration, to see Heimdall watching her steadily. "No," she said softly. "But what other choice do I have?"

"This seems to have happened very quickly, Lady Astrid. I believe you are acting rashly. It is understandable that you would be distraught after the loss of your second child-"

Astrid cringed at his words. Her second child. No. It had never been a child. A flicker of life inside of her, maybe, but extinguished before it had been anything real.

"Are you going to stop me?" she demanded.

Heimdall didn't move. "No."

She turned away from him, to stare into the light. "You will tell them where I've gone?"

"I do not know where you are going."

Astrid smirked humorlessly. "Perhaps that is for the best."

The raven shrieked and took off from her shoulder, flying into the light. It disappeared instantly.

Without a word, she leaped.

**~:~§~:~**

A bright light burned from behind her closed lids. She instinctively raised a shaky hand to block it out, but the warmth of the sun still hit her face. She groaned and cracked her eyes open, dreading what she might see.

"Are you alright, miss? That was some fall." A young man looked concernedly down at her. He wasn't what one would call handsome, and rather plainly dressed, but Astrid took his proffered hand anyway, and was pulled, more roughly than she would have liked, to her feet.

"Where am I?" she asked, a haughty note in her voice. This man was clearly not one to be associated with by the likes of her.

He grinned, and smudged a coal-blackened hand across his forehead, leaving a streak of ink-colored dust. "Well, you're somewhere in New York. To be honest, even I'm not sure exactly where, but, you see, I was wanderin' around and sort of got lost-"

_New York? A Midgardian term._ "And the year?" Astrid snapped her fingers, trying to calculate exactly when she should have landed. "2012, yes?"

The man stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. "Miss, I'm not sure if no one's told you, but we haven't even reached the turn of the century yet, let alone the 2000s! Why, I'll bet there'll be flyin' cars and no more 'unger and killing - and lots of jobs fer everyone! And-"

"What. Year. Is. It." She spoked as if addressing a small, stupid child, while quickly taking in her surroundings. Midgard had always been described as ordinary, and rather puny, but beautiful in a simple way, but a grey pall seemed to hang over their surroundings. New York didn't seem to be anything special. Humans trudging about their every-day duties, offering weak smiles to others. It was a city, to be sure, but Astrid had always assumed that it might be more vibrant. Maybe they were in the midst of a plague.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you for real?"

_Answer my question or I will rip you to shreds_, she wanted to hiss. But instead, she batted her eyelashes in a crude mimic of what she had seen some of Amora's cronies do before. When they wanted a man's attention it worked surprisingly well.

"Sir," she raised her voice into an almost-falsetto, internally gagging. "If you would be so kind as to inform me of the date. I have just been hit rather hard on the head, you see, and-"

"A bump on the noggin?" The man smiled in a knowing way. "Well, miss, if I'm not mistaken, the date today would be... the tenth of September, year 1939."

**~:~§~:~  
**

_**A/N: **And... finite._

_The song is actually a poem called 'I'm Not Supposed to Love You' by Erin Stack._

_Shamelessly setting myself up for a sequel, I know. But she's not in 2012! At least... not yet. Muhahaha!_

_Thank you for reading and staying with me! I wuv all of you guys!_


End file.
